Grave Beginnings (The Grave Report, Book 1)
Page 8
It’s frightening enough having a tiger chasing you, add to that the fact that this one was made of solid metal and its claws were actually gouging out bits of the side walk, well you can guess how frickin’ terrified I was.
What really bothered me was the fact that as I tore past scared and screaming people, none of them were on their phones calling the cops or animal control, nope.
They were screaming and taking fucking pictures!
What the hell is wrong with people these days?
It was a miracle I had managed to see where I was going amidst all the flashing lights from people’s camera phones because they were certainly distracting.
The tiger certainly thought so; it actually paused for a moment to snarl rather loudly at some nearby people who were snapping away. That quickly elicited more screams from them and caused them to runaway, which is the worst thing to do when a massive cat is staring at you.
All predators have a chase instinct that’s triggered by running away, so if a big tiger is roaring at you and you decide to run, it’s going to chase you down. Chances were that if they had slowly backed away, it would have left them alone and continued pursuing me, but they didn’t do that.
So why did I run, well, I knew that that tiger was going to try to kill me regardless of what I did. New York doesn’t have solid gold tigers that appear out of nowhere, that’s supernatural and if it’s supernatural it’s going to be after me.
Now was it a good thing that the tiger lost focus on me?
Yes.
Was it a good thing that it was about to chase down and devour a New York couple?
Probably not.
My bosses would be beyond pissed if tomorrow the New York times read: Solid gold tiger eats stupid couple who were taking photos of it with their camera phone.
So I did the only thing I could, I reached down and grabbed a crumpled up soda can, it’s New York, there’s litter, and I hurled it at the tiger. It made a noticeable clank as it impacted the tiger’s skull and man did that piss it off.
It snapped its head in my direction and let out the loudest roar I had heard yet and came bounding after me, each leap tearing up bits of road and sidewalk.
It was times like this that reminded me just how much I hated my job, but then, who doesn’t?
Fortunately I was nowhere near tired yet, so I could keep running at a pretty intense pace for a fair while, I was hoping the tiger might just get bored and give up.
It could happen….
So I began hauling ass once again, sprinting as fast as I could, occasionally dashing through the busy New York streets and traffic in the hopes a car would pancake the tiger. No such luck, every car either swerved to avoid it or slammed the brakes.
Apparently solid gold tigers that are chasing me down are on the endangered animals list, so no one wanted to help me kill it.
I had only been running for minutes but it seemed like an hour and I was really getting nowhere, the tiger showed no sign of slowing down.
There was a fairly narrow looking alleyway further up ahead, I was hoping that I’d be able to lose the tiger there considering how much larger it was than me. I bolted towards it, putting every bit of pep in my step as I could muster and dove into the alley. I looked down it and realized it was a dead end, of course, but it was lined with several dumpsters I could hide in.
As disgusting as dumpsters are and New York dumpsters all the more, it’s much better to dive into one of them than be eviscerated by a supernatural metal monster tiger. As I drew closer to the nearest dumpster, I noticed something at the very end of the alleyway, a ladder! It was partially retracted meaning that I would have to jump to reach it, if I could reach it, but if I did, I could avoid being kitty chow.
So I abandoned my plan of diving into a dumpster and dashed towards the end of the alley, I was nearly there when whiskers came barreling down the alley right behind me. As I ran, I turned my head back to get a look at how much fur ball was gaining on me, a lot! It was too thick to avoid hitting the dumpster as it ran past, I thought it would slow down and try to squeeze through, buying me time.
Nope.
The friggin’ feline just bounded over it, the eight hundred pound plus golden tiger hoped over a dumpster and never broke it’s stride.
Not fair at all.
I finally managed to make it to the retracted ladder; it hung there in its rusted and disused glory, leading up to the small typical New York alley fire escape. It was a bit higher than I had originally thought; I missed it on my first jump but got lucky on the second. My hands clasped on fiercely to the cold steel ladder, tinged red from rust, my weight sending the ladder crashing down to the alley floor. I could hear mittens deep guttural snarls and snuffles as it drew closer. My hands impacted the cold uncomfortable steel hard and rapidly as I scrambled up the ladder as the large cat pounced, landing in the exact spot I was seconds ago. The weight of the tiger’s landing upon impact caused the pavement to crack.
Okay…
I managed to make it up the ladder safely and onto the first of the little metal balcony’s that comprised the fire escape. I collapsed against the railings and exhaled more in relief than exhaustion as the tiger plodded around below, obviously furious that it had failed in killing me.
“Ha, ha ha, ha ha!” I laughed, there’s something about surviving near evisceration that makes you appreciative of things like laughter. “Screw you Tony!” I shouted, something about surviving also makes you appreciate the ability to be vindictive.
The tiger let out another menacing growl.
Tigers can’t understand human speech…right?
I got my answer the next second when the tiger stopped pacing and began tensing it’s body, its muscles coiling visibly.
“Well…shit.”
The very next instant the tiger was sailing through the air, a lot of air, and about to land on the first balcony of the fire escape. My legs were hammering against metal as I scampered up the first flight of stairs rather awkwardly, barely managing to get out of the way when the enraged supernatural cat landed. I fought to keep my balance as the entire structure shook when the big cat landed with a very audible thunk. Its weight caused the rusted metal of the fire escape to groan and I could swear bolts were beginning to loosen.
Someone needed to lay off their frosted flakes.
The tiger didn’t even hesitate for a moment; it pounced again, launching itself easily up the first flight of stairs towards where I was standing. I didn’t sidestep so much as collapse and roll out of the way of the ballistic missile that was the ginormous golden tiger as it leapt towards me once again, front paws outstretched like it was going to give me a hug, an eight hundred pound razor sharp hug. I had already bounced back up to my feet and begun hastily running up the second flight of stairs when it crashed into the railings, causing me to stagger as the entire fire escape jolted violently. I’m sure the sound of metal tearing from brick would have filled my eardrums if they weren’t already being deafened by the tiger’s angry roars.
By now lights were flickering on in the windows of the apartments on which the fire escape was built into and for. I could hear noisy and terrified commotion from inside. Well, little did they know it but it was a helluva lot more terrifying outside.
I clambered up the last few stairs of the second flight, my hands and knees panging as they hit the metal stairs over and over. I had just made it to the next balcony when the tiger swept a paw at my legs. It missed narrowly; the tips of its claws grazed my left calf, slicing the flesh open easily. Fiery hot pain lanced up my leg, my calf muscle was twitching in shock and worse of all, I was bleeding…
The tiger had spilt blood; no way it was going to give up the chase now.
Great…
I grabbed onto the cold steel of the support railing and hauled myself up, quickly limping up the next flight of stairs while the tiger followed, rather slowly. It was stalking me now, why not, it had hurt me and it knew it, so why waste more energy chasing
me? I had dictated the pace of the chase for almost all of it, now was it’s turn, no rush; it wanted to kill me nice and slow.
Supernatural douche.
My calf was making it hard to ascend the third flight of stairs; my teeth were eroding each other at this point as they ground hard in my attempt to grit through the pain. But there was good news, as the tiger covered the last flight of stairs in a rather simple and yet graceful leap, its landing once again caused the rusted metal work to shudder and sway. The fire escape was beginning to lean towards the other side of the alley, pretty soon it would give completely and crash to the ground and anything that went with it would be crushed.
And now I had a way to potentially kill this overgrown ornament!
“Hey, skitzo cat, come get some!” I snarled defiantly, goading the already enraged tiger.
The giant feline let out the most disturbing noise I had ever heard in response to my insult; it wasn’t another deafening roar though. The tiger made the deepest guttural sounds ever, there was just this intense heavy reverberation coming from its throat. A very low and menacing sound, kind of like when someone’s voice drops down to a dangerously quiet whisper, the “I’m going to kill you slowly and painfully,” whisper.
So, I had successfully pissed off a supernatural solid gold tiger, not my smartest moment.
The tiger charged with the most unnatural burst of speed I had seen from it yet, it was a golden four legged cannonball…coming straight towards me.
I used every bit of my own supernatural strength to hurl myself out of the way, resulting in me crashing into the sides of the fire escape, my sternum bouncing of the unforgiving metal structure.
Mittens though, plowed right into the railings, broke through them and went sailing towards the concrete in a snarling fury. He landed with an Earth shattering crunch, the pavement shattered beneath it’s weight.
And then what I was waiting for, happened. The tiger’s last impact on the fire escape caused the entire structure to become more unstable, it began wobbling uncontrollably. Seconds later, the inevitable, five floors of rusted metal work came loose and went a crashing to the ground, with me inside.
“This is gonna hurt,” I muttered to myself as I felt the world around me sinking fast. The impact was a hellish symphony of metal groaning, wrenching, screeching, me screaming possibly and the painful high-pitched wail of a very large cat.
The pain wasn’t all too great either, the only thing I can think of that summed up what hurt was, everything. Fortunately I didn’t black out.
“Ohhhhh,” I groaned unintelligibly. My neck panged excruciatingly as I turned to look at the scene of carnage around me, rusted metalwork was lying all around me in a mangled heap.
“Snowball,” I coughed, “you there?”
No answer.
I grabbed a nearby bit of wrecked metal framework and hauled myself up, slowly, very slowly. A combination of white hot and dull throbbing pain shot up my everywhere. I could make out voices coming from everyone of the apartment windows but my head was a bit too battered to make out clearly what they were saying.
After the spinning had stopped, I looked around for the tiger but there wasn’t a trace of it beneath the buried metalwork. I stepped out from all of the twisted heap of junk and knelt to begin rummaging through the debris, looking for any signs I could.
Nothing.
There was no body, no crunched golden tiger limbs, a not so fuzzy gold plated tail, nothing.
My head was starting to get back in order, my hearing getting clearer and it was able to make out the distinct sound of sirens that undoubtedly belonged to New York’s finest. My little tiger escapade through the busy streets of New York probably attracted some attention. Last thing I needed was to be detained by the cops.
“Damnit,” I cursed under my breath, grabbing another bit of once railing, I hauled myself up from one knee, the entire area from my thigh down to my shin erupting once more in pain.
“Errgh,” I groaned as my hands shook on the railing from the pain, that’s when I felt it. I removed my hands from the rails, causing me to teeter a bit from the lack of support as I examined them; my hands were covered in a fine powdery substance. It was difficult to make out the color at night but it looked black. I rubbed both my index and middle finger against my thumbs; the powder was really fine, soft, like black baby powder. I cautiously sniffed it; it smelt like the aftermath of a fire, it was soot?
The hell was soot doing here?
I took another careful look around the scene and realized it was everywhere, like a giant balloon filled with the stuff had burst. When the tiger had been crushed it had left an enormous amount of soot residue, but why? What did a golden tiger have to do with soot? This was getting frustrating, every time I thought I had an answer or a lead, I got dealt another series of questions.
A barrage of red and blue lights suddenly began cascading over the walls of the alleyway; the cops were close or already here, waiting right outside for little old me. I looked back down the other direction of the alley only to see a solid wall, it was a dead end, I had forgot.
I didn’t have much choice except to go out there and hope that the cops were close but not here yet. I placed my right hand against the alley wall and staggered my way towards the direction of the flashing lights. As I drew closer to the street, I could see around half a dozen police officers standing outside their cars, some with their firearms drawn and pointed down the alley…at me and the others with their hands on the weapons ready to draw. There was also another person and man did she stand out amongst the boys in blue.
It was her face that really made her stand out, it wasn’t some indiscernible mug that blended in with the cops in the background, she had a striking beauty. Her oval face was wearing a bit of a smirk but just a bit, it was the kind of smirk someone wore when the had just caught someone in the act of doing something bad…like me. The cars headlights illuminated her face and showed off her flawless beige skin that had just a tinge of gold in it, her deep dark brown eyes glowed with amusement. Her eyebrows were the slightest of shades darker than her hair, a deep chestnut brown, one of them raised a fraction of an inch, further accentuating the point that she found all of this to be rather amusing. She wore her lighter chestnut brown hair straight, loose and let it fall down to the bottom of her shoulders.
That wasn’t all that made her stand out though, it was how she was dressed, she wasn’t in the uniform of a cop. Nope. This woman was all in oh so fashionable black. She donned what looked to rather comfortable black flat-bottomed work shoes; the kind of shoes that went with a suit but you could actually run in. Her outfit was an all black pant and suit combo. Her suit was double-breasted with notched lapels, which was unbuttoned meaning it revealed her pristine white dress shirt with turquoise pinstripes, definitely not the attire of NYPD.
Fanfriggintastic. It wasn’t just the cops I had managed to attract.
She confirmed my fears the next instant as she walked up to me and produced a small rectangular leather wallet in which were two sheets of paper. The top one contained a small intricate seal belonging to the Department of Justice, atop the piece of rectangular paper it read in very clear blue letters, Federal Bureau of Investigation. In the center in massive letters the initials, FBI were stamped and to the right of that it bore a small picture of the woman before me. I couldn’t make out the rest but I didn’t need to, it would read special agent, her name, then some serial number. On the bottom right hand corner of the wallet was a glistening gold shield shaped badge, the top of which had an eagle sprouting out of it.
“Fuckin’ feds,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” she asked sharply?
I quickly exercised my Fifth Amendment right and promptly shut the hell up. Didn’t stop her from talking though.
“I’m special agent Camilla Ortiz, I’d very much appreciate it if you could accompany me downtown to answer a few questions.” She said rather sweetly, guess she was good c
op.
“What if I say no?” I asked curiously.
Her smirk vanished and was quickly replaced by a wolfish smile; she brushed aside her suit, revealing a holstered Glock Model 22.
“Oh,” was all I was to say at the moment.
“So?” She said, letting the question hang in the air.
“Well I’d love to but I’m sweaty, I’m tired, I’m bleeding, I’ve missed my shows and I could really use a spa treatment now, so girlfriend to girlfriend, I think I’m gonna go home now and eat some Baskin Robbins and have some me time.” I replied, so much for staying silent though.
Her amused look quickly returned, “cute,” she said.
“I can be,” I said smiling.
“Cuff him,” were the last words she said before two officers of the law deemed it necessary to force me rather roughly to my knees and place handcuffs on me.
As they were escorting me into the back of one of their cars I shot her quick look, grinned and said, “you know this is a really rough way to get a date. You could’ve just asked me out you know?”
I could’ve sworn a smile flashed across her face for just a second before she shook her head and scoffed. That’s when the cops shoved me rather unceremoniously into the back seat and slammed the door on me.
If I paid taxes, I would have made a comment about tax payer dollars at work and hindering supernatural detectives from saving the world…. or at least a museum. This was seriously going to eat into my time limit; Church was not going to be happy with this.
Chapter Seven
It was about a thirty maybe thirty-five minute drive from Manhattan down to Federal Plaza where the New York division of the FBI was located. In that time, my shredded calf had managed to heal, which was nice. I did a bit of bantering with the officers who were so polite as to chauffeur me literally downtown…well state I guess.