by John Quick
“Don’t tell me they got you believing that nonsense?”
“I didn’t at first,” he replied. “The first couple of times, I told them to find the biggest net they could, snag the bastard, then call us up once they did so we could come collect it for dinner tonight. But they kept coming in. And not just from kids, if that’s what you’re thinking. Older folk. Folks who have no reason to make up stories like that. Hell, Boyd over at Public Works even called in something about it after he finally got home a couple hours ago. Said it was in his back yard, swam around for a little while, then turned tail and headed out toward the lake again. For that matter, if it was just the phone calls, I might be willing to chalk it up to mass hysteria or something like that. I read about that somewhere, where a bunch of people undergoing a stressful situation might suddenly start to believe something even worse is happening to ‘em. But there’s more than just that.”
“Well don’t just stand there,” Charlene said. “Tell me.”
“Steph didn’t report back in last night,” he said, and for the first time she heard a tremor of fear in his voice. “And I sent Eddie out a little while ago to try and find either Andy or Rob, but he hasn’t checked in, either.”
“The roads are horrid, Dwayne,” she said, trying to keep her own voice calm. Steph might be a flighty little tramp most of the time, but Eddie was as by-the-book as they came. “Could be a million reasons they didn’t check in, you know. For that matter, Steph was off at seven last night. I know she stayed over on account of the bridges, so she might’ve tried while you were out at south bridge with Eddie.”
“Maybe,” he said, sounding not the least bit reassured. “But you were here when we got back, so did you hear her check in?”
Charlene had to admit that she hadn’t, but still refused to allow herself to worry. Steph not checking in didn’t mean squat as far as she was concerned. But Eddie….
She rolled her chair over to the radio, picked up the microphone, and keyed it. “Unit six, this is dispatch, requesting a status check, please.”
She could feel Dwayne hovering just over her shoulder, as if leaning in would help the thing’s reception or something. She watched the clock hanging over the radio as she waited, giving the seconds hand two full revolutions before keying the microphone again.
“Dispatch to Unit Six, please respond with your status.”
Still nothing but static. She gave it three minutes this time.
“Dispatch to Unit Six, damn it Eddie, answer your damned radio!”
Static.
She glanced up to Dwayne and saw that his face had gone ashen again. She had no idea if he’d already tried this or not, but even if he had, there should’ve been some response after three attempts. Her jaw worked as she considered her options, then keyed the microphone again.
“All units, this is dispatch,” she said. “I am instituting a radio check, please respond back with your unit number and location please.”
Another minute passed, then a groggy voice finally came back over the line. “Dispatch, this is Unit Four, home trying to get some goddamn sleep. What the hell’s going on out there, Charlene?”
It wasn’t one of the ones she’d been hoping to get, but it was better than nothing. “Andy, we can’t get a response out of Steph or Eddie, and they’re long past due for a check in. I hate to ask, hon, but can you make a run around town and see if you see hide or hair of them anyplace?”
There was another long silence on the line, but this time Charlene could almost picture Andy sitting on the edge of his bed in his boxers, handheld radio at his side as he pawed around on his nightstand for a cigarette and his wife sleepily asking him what was going on. Finally he responded, and as expected, she could hear him exhaling smoke, first.
“Where were they last seen?”
Charlene glanced over her shoulder to Dwayne. He opened his mouth, so she quickly keyed the microphone and held it up closer so she wouldn’t have to repeat the information. He nodded and leaned in as well.
“Steph was supposed to check the boat ramp before she went home,” Dwayne said. “Eddie was on his way to find either you or Rob.”
“What the he…?” Andy began, then stopped. “Okay, first things first. Did Steph check in from the boat ramp?”
Dwayne looked over to Charlene, who answered. “Not that either of us is aware of.”
“Okay,” Andy replied again. His voice was a little muffled now, and Charlene thought she could hear movement like he was getting dressed while he smoked and talked to them. For someone who sounded mostly asleep just a moment ago, he was now remarkably active. It was one of the things that made him a good cop. “I’ll check her house first, since it’s the closest to me, then the docks. You said Eddie was on his way here or to Rob’s?”
“Yeah,” Charlene replied. “But Rob’s not at his house. He stayed over at Leanne’s last night. Something killed her dog, it seems.”
Dwayne made a strangled sound in his throat, and Charlene gave him a look that said he better hold his tongue before she cut it out of his head. He swallowed hard and nodded.
“Then I’ll swing out that way, too,” Andy said. “You tried calling Rob’s phone yet?”
“He doesn’t have service,” Charlene said. “Or at least he didn’t last night. I’ll give him a shot, then I’ll see if I can’t round up Leanne’s home number and try that way, too.”
“Good deal,” Andy said. “Think you can spare Dwayne?”
“I think I can manage it.”
“Then Dwayne, you head out on the path Eddie would’ve been taking, see if you can spot any sign of him. Keep in contact with me along the way, and I’ll do the same for you. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier with both of us out looking than if I’m all by my lonesome. One last thing: there any particular reason the pair of you sound so blamed freaked out?”
Charlene scowled at the radio, wondering what he’d heard in her voice that would make him think she was freaking out. The more she considered it, though, the more she realized the truth of it. She didn’t know about all that “monster fish” garbage, but she did know that something had killed and partially eaten Annie Fordham and Chase Wilcox, and she seemed to remember Leanne saying something about a fish eating her dog, too. Whatever it really was, there was obviously some kind of predator making the rounds out there, and that storm had given it a veritable buffet to work with.
“Yeah,” she said at last. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I know it’s got the makings of being the worst thing Ashford Fork’s ever seen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
For a brief moment, Rob thought that the apocalypse had come. At the exact same second Leanne’s phone rang, his cell phone also started blaring its alarm and someone began pounding on her front door like they were attempting to knock it down. Foley nearly fell off the couch, and Carrie squealed in alarm. Leanne held it together a little better, merely jerking away from where she was sitting on the arm of his chair, but even he started at the cacophony, spilling coffee down his shirt. He was eternally thankful that it wasn’t even close to hot, so at least he avoided getting a burn out of the deal.
Leanne got up and raced for the phone hanging just outside her kitchen, while Rob snatched his cell and pistol off the coffee table as he headed to the front door. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Andy calling, which was strange. As far as he knew, Andy was planning on sleeping in a little and trying to head back into the station around ten this morning. It was barely six-thirty, earlier even than if the man was going in at his regular time. Rob only hoped that whatever it was, it wasn’t more bad news. He’d had about all of that he could handle, and the day was just getting started.
He punched the “answer” button with his thumb and stuck the phone to his ear briefly. “Hold on.”
He sat the phone on the side table near the door, pulled his gun, and peered through the peephole. He frowned when he recognized Stan Winchester standing on the porch looking like a drowne
d rat, rifle cradled in his arm as he used the other fist to hammer away on the door. Much like Foley and Carrie had been doing earlier, his eyes were not on the door but watching the flooded yard and road behind him, as if guarding against something that might come after him in it.
Rob rested his forehead briefly against the door, eyes closed, then let out a sigh and opened it. Stan nearly fell forward when he went to knock again and found there was nothing to knock on. Rob stepped to the side, not so much of out any fear that Stan would hit him on accident, or land on him if he fell, but that the rifle might go off accidentally and put an end to the insanity his life had become as of late.
“Pinkston,” Stan said, regaining his balance and offering him a brief nod. His eyes had a haunted look that Rob didn’t particularly like. “’Bout time you answered the damn door. We got problems.”
“Stan, I don’t have time for this right now,” Rob said, sighing. “Have you taken a look around you?”
“More than you have, I’ll wager,” Stan snapped back. “Elise Granger’s dead. Something busted into her house and ate her goddamn head.”
Rob closed his eyes and felt his head begin to throb. “Let me guess, you think it was a giant catfish.”
“You seen it too, then?”
“No,” Rob admitted, stepping to one side and motioning for the old man to come in and join the others. “But apparently I’m in the minority on that one.”
He closed the door after Stan, then grabbed his cell phone off the side table and took a deep breath. “You still there, Andy?”
“I’m here, boss,” the man replied. “Everything okay there?”
“No, but that seems to be the new normal,” Rob replied. “What’s going on?”
“Has Charlene managed to get ahold of you yet?”
“No, why?”
Andy let out a long breath. “Well, it looks like neither Steph nor Eddie are responding to radio checks. Steph never checked in after checking the boat ramp last night, and Eddie went out this morning to find the pair of us. But that's not the worst of it. I was just on my way out to the docks, to see what might’ve happened with Steph, and I passed Gail Carver’s car sitting on the side of the road, front end jacked up on the passenger side. I stopped to see if she needed any help, and Rob… she’s dead.”
Rob stood up a little straighter, his eyes going wide. “Are you sure?”
“There’s no mistaking it,” Andy said, sounding a little sick. “She was lying in the street just in front of the car, head mangled to shit and back, and with her guts torn out. Looked a lot like what we saw out by the lake yesterday, with Fordham and Wilcox.”
Rob heard an anguished wail and turned around to see Foley holding onto Carrie while she cried into his shoulder. Stan sat in the chair across from them, the one Rob himself had been sitting in just a few minutes ago, with a pained look on his face.
“She’s not the only one,” Rob said, lowering his voice. “Stan Winchester just showed up over here and said Elise Granger was dead, too. Same MO.”
“Boss, I hate to ask this,” Andy said. “But what the hell is eating our neighbors? I’ve never heard of any animal attack this sustained or consistent.”
“I’m not sure,” Rob admitted. “And this may sound insane, but I’m starting to think it’s a catfish the size of a man, or bigger.”
There was a long silence on the line, and Rob had to check to make sure that the call hadn’t been dropped. Finally, Andy came back, but he didn’t sound nearly as disbelieving as Rob would have expected him to.
“You’re right, that does sound insane,” he said. “But you’re not, so how sure of this are you?”
“Seventy percent,” Rob said. “Seventy-five, maybe. I’m just hearing too many accounts that match too many others from people with no reason to make the shit up.”
“Fair enough,” Andy replied. “What should I do?”
“Radio it in about Gail,” he said. “Have Charlene send EMS out that way to collect her remains. I’m not going to just leave her lying out there in the middle of the road like a damn deer got hit by a car. Once they get there to collect her, you go ahead and check out the ramp, see what’s happened to Steph. Don’t head out this way, the roads are too flooded for you to make it. Is Dwayne still on duty?”
“Out following Eddie’s trail, looking for him.”
“Good. Keep me posted. I’ll go grab my handheld out of the truck here in a few so I can keep in radio contact, too. And Andy?”
“Yeah?”
“You see anything weird,” Rob said. “Anything that doesn’t make sense, you take note of it and call it in. Don’t try and face whatever this thing is alone. It’s obviously pretty vicious, and I don’t want or need anything happening to anyone else if I can help it. Just note its location and stay safe.”
“Roger that, boss. I’ll keep in touch.”
Rob disconnected the call, took a deep breath, and then headed back to the living room. Leanne met him on the way, a strange look on her face.
“That was Charlene,” she said. “Wanted me to have you call or radio her as soon as you could.”
“What else?” Rob asked, narrowing his eyes. “I see it on your face, there’s more, so what is it?”
“Rob, I’ve never seen that woman get so much as rattled the whole time I’ve known her,” Leanne said. “But on the phone just now? She sounded scared out of her mind.”
Rob put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, and tried to offer her a reassuring smile. “There’s a lot of that going around, it looks like. I’ll call her back here in a minute.”
He turned his attention to the group assembled in the living room. “Okay, Stan, what did you see?”
Stan recounted his story about seeing the thing last night, shooting at it, then standing watch for the rest of the night. Rob’s stomach clenched at his tale, not so much for what he was saying, but for the fact that he wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact he’d been out at his still making moonshine when all this went down. If the man was freely admitting to illegal activities—regardless of the fact everyone knew about them anyway—it was a sure sign that whatever had happened was definitely something that rattled him.
He went on to explain why he’d gone down to Elise Granger’s house, and what he discovered when he went inside. When he was done, Foley and Carrie repeated their own story as well, without prompting. It was no surprise to Rob that Leanne finished things off with what she’d seen happening to her dog last night. What was a bit of a surprise was that once everyone was up to speed with everyone else, all eyes turned to him.
He opened his mouth to ask why they were staring at him, then realized he had information to share as well. He told them about the discovery of Annie Fordham and Chase Wilcox, and how Brandon Snyder was missing, and then paused. He knelt down in front of Leanne and softly repeated what Andy had just told him about Gail Carver. Her face crumpled as a hand went to her mouth, but to her credit, she held it together. Rob was sure she would fall apart later, but for now, she was trying to focus on the immediate problem.
“What now, Pinkston?” Stan asked.
Rob gave him a confused look. “How should I know?”
“You’re the acting chief, ain’t you?” the man replied. “That makes you the one in charge. I’d much rather deal with Bruce, but since you’re all we got, I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”
“This isn’t a bunch of teenagers knocking down mailboxes,” Rob said. “Hell, it’s not even like we’ve got some lunatic running around raping and killing folk. We’re talking about a damned fish eating people. A fish, I should point out, that you claim to have shot with no ill effect to the thing. This is so far outside my area of expertise that it’s not even funny.”
“We have to kill it,” Carrie said. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, but her voice was calm and steady. “Don’t we? We can’t just let this thing keep going around killing people. How long would it be before it breaks in here, too? We are
right on the lake, which it seems like is this thing’s home.”
“How?” Rob asked. “Let’s say by some miracle we manage to find it—and I don’t even want to consider how we’re going to pull that one off. How do we kill it?”
He glanced over to the rifle leaned against the chair next to Stan. “What is that, thirty-ought?”
Stan nodded.
“A lot more powerful than my pistol, that’s for damn sure,” Rob said, returning his attention to the others. “If that thing really did take a shot from that rifle and keep on going like nothing happened, my thirty-eight is going to be about as much good as a cap gun.”
The room went silent at that, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Stan scratched at the stubble on his chin, his eyes distant. Leanne looked at her hands, clenched together in her lap. Carrie stared at the floor, tears leaking from her eyes again. Foley was the one who caught Rob’s attention, though. He was staring thoughtfully over at Stan.
“What?” Rob asked. Foley blinked and looked over at him. “You’ve got an idea?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Nah, never mind, it’s stupid.”
“Stupid’s better than nothing,” Rob said. “Out with it.”
Foley sighed and looked back over to Stan. “How potent’s the stuff you make?”
“Much as I’d like to, boy, this ain’t the time for getting hammered,” Stan replied, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Not what I had in mind,” Foley replied. “How flammable is it?”
A slow smile started playing across Stan’s face at that. “Oh, it’ll burn, that’s for damn sure. Last batch I checked was running about ninety-six percent alcohol.”
Rob suddenly understood where the boy was going with this. He could tell that Stan did as well, and Leanne was even nodding her head a bit, too. Only Carrie still seemed confused. That was okay; she’d figure it out soon enough.