by Louisa Bacio
Drained of blood and the corpses mutilated. Nice. On the top corner of the paper, he drew a triangle, intersecting with another triangle, and shaded in half the areas.
“Did you save any of these bodies for inspection?”
“Just the one from last night. We haven’t buried Bell yet.”
Named goats. He added “Bell” on the notes.
“Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but something is hunting on our grounds, and I’m afraid it’s escalating and someone’s going to get hurt,” she continued on in an alluring, sexy voice with a slight accent. Maybe from living on the border. Her English was perfect, but possessed a slight lift on some words.
“I understand.” He encouraged her to keep talking. Across the desk, Jackson leaned in, raising his eyebrows. Shaw knew what he wanted. Was this a potential case, or another loco-local-gone-wild?
“How long did you say this has been happening?”
“This time around? Maybe two months. The killings started out slow, but have grown closer together.”
“What do you mean by ‘this time’?” he asked, curiosity piqued. He laid the pen down, putting all his concentration into the call. Something about the despair in her voice further drew him in.
“Well, it’s not the first time. Seven years ago, something similar happened before my mom went missing. In fact, from what I’ve heard, it’s every seven years since the major hurricane that wiped out the area in the forties. I don’t know if I should believe her, but my mami, my grandmother, used to tell me these stories about a creature that came out and sucked the blood from the animals.”
Mexican folktales talked about a vampiric-like creature that primarily targeted animals. While Shaw had seen a special on one of Jackson’s shows, it was the first time he’d handled a call for the creature.
“You mean the chupacabra?”
Right as silence greeted him on the other end, Jackson broke out laughing. He imagined how insane the conversation sounded.
“Listen, there’s nothing funny about what’s happening here.” Her voice grew angry. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
She hung up, leaving him listening to a dial tone.
“Was she for real?” Jackson asked.
“Well, she thinks it is.” He traced her name, Lucia. He never got the last name, but that wouldn’t hold him back. “The truth remains to be seen.”
3
Anger fueled Lucia’s movements. After slamming down the phone, she paced the kitchen, back and forth. How dare he laugh at her and their situation. What did he know?
Mack and her father sat at the table, waiting for her to stop. The moment she looked at Papi, he asked, “So what did he say?”
“Ah, don’t get your hopes up. They’re busy right now.” What could she say? They thought she was a nutcase calling about a mythical creature come to life from Mexican folklore? That this “goat sucker” caused her mom to run off and leave the family seven years ago, and now it’s returned to wreak havoc on the remaining members of the family?
Suuuure. That sounded completely believable. With each step, her legs became heavier, weighed down. She slumped into a chair, and Papi placed his weathered and wrinkled hand over hers. He patted—once, twice, three times.
“That’s okay, honey. You tried. Maybe they’ll surprise us.”
Despite all the hardships life had stuck him with, her father continued to have a positive outlook. He was determined to master a prosthetic leg in order to be able to maneuver around the farm like he used to. In his mid-fifties, though, the rehab would take a while. Sure, maybe he could traverse the local grocery stores in a few months, but how long before he conquered the rocky and dry terrain? That was an accident waiting to happen.
“You never know.”
Mack picked up his breakfast plate, rinsed it off in the sink, and stuck it in the dishwasher. “Well, sorry it didn’t turn out how you wanted. It’s time for me to get started on my day.” He placed his hat on his head and tipped it toward her. “Ms. Lucia, I can take a few night paroles if you’d like.”
For a few beats, she stared at his kind face. Lord, if he wasn’t even older than Papi. These two men were the last protectors of the family lands? It wasn’t ageism, really. But knowing the weaknesses about both men, she didn’t see them in the role of the great defenders.
Silence stretched, and her pause must have spoken more than her actual words. Mack’s cheeks flushed a pale pink. “Perhaps, my nephew can come help out a few nights. I’m sure he’d be happy to get out of his momma’s house.”
Lucia suppressed a groan. His nephew was a twenty-two-year-old hotshot in the firefighter academy who left their youngest sister, Roxanne, all hot and bothered. All that mess wasn’t always a good thing to bring closer to home.
“Why don’t you hold off on that a bit, Uncle Mack.” She held her hand out, palm extended. “We’ll work something out. If I feel we need him, I’ll tell you to bring Jamie.”
He appeared to like that comment even less.
“Mmmm-hmmm. You do that.” He ambled toward the kitchen door. Once he opened the gate to the mudroom, a “blaaah” caused a commotion.
“The baby goat,” Lucia said. She didn’t forget, really. It was more of a not remembering to let him out first thing.
“What a mess,” Mack said. “Pellets everywhere. Tell you what. I’ll take him out to pasture and see if I can get another doe to adopt him, and you clean this up.”
Shit and more shit. When she allowed Dom to keep him in the house overnight, Lucia knew she’d end up being the person cleaning up after him.
“It’s a deal,” she said. Lucia got up to pet the orphan. “What are we going to call you, troublemaker?” Each rub on the top of his head brought her comfort.
“What was the name of that special agent you talked on the phone with?” her dad asked, pointing at the phone.
“Shaw.”
“Sounds like a mighty fine name for a goat to me,” he replied.
The three of them broke out in laughter. Ah, the irony. “Shaw it is,” she said. “His last name is even McDiamond, which matches the diamond shape on this little guy’s nose.”
“There you go. Karma,” Mack said. He lifted the helpless creature in his arms and opened the door to outside. “I’ll check back in around lunchtime.”
Of course, because odds were, he’d be expecting to eat. At least she didn’t have to worry about whatever was killing the stock to strike in the middle of the day. The creature preferred the cover of night.
The road twisted and turned, and Shaw peered into the darkness, keeping his eyes on the pavement and the wheels on the road.
“It sure does get dark out here without any streetlamps,” Jackson said from the passenger seat.
If they would have planned the trip better, or had more lead time, arriving during the daylight hours probably would have been the best bet. After reviewing the history of the Three Rivers Ranch and the surrounding area, and with bad weather predicted for later in the week, Shaw figured they better get while the getting was good. Otherwise, the storms may stop them from flying.
Soft snores drifted from the back seat where Alec crashed out without a care. At least one of us would arrive refreshed.
As part of SLICE, they went out on three-people teams with a main liaison at headquarters for any sort of technical/background work. Since he’d taken the call, Shaw had been appointed lead. Or he’d taken it. The despair in Lucia’s voice haunted him, and he’d done research on the area. It was true a hurricane had hit, and it didn’t take much convincing of the guys to do a road trip to check it out.
He flexed his hands against the steering wheel. He’d been gripping the wheel so tightly, his fingers started to ache. The car jolted as a wheel hit a dip in the road.
“What? Watch it,” Alec mumbled from the back.
“Sorry to disturb your precious rest,” Jackson said.
“Didn’t you ever learn that it’s not nice to say something you do
n’t mean?” Shaw ribbed him. Nothing like his band of brothers to keep him energized. It was the best part of his life.
Alec grumbled and slipped back into a steady snore.
“Haven’t you figured out nothing keeps him awake?” Jackson said.
Shaw checked the GPS on the dashboard. The map flashed “uncharted territory.” What the fuck good was it, if it couldn’t tell them where they were, and where they needed to be? Times like this in the back roads of southern Texas, it was nice to have functioning maps and directions.
“Keep an eye out for landmarks. It feels like we should be getting close.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll know it when we see it,” Jackson countered. “It’s not like there’s a whole lot out here to confuse a ranch with. We passed the last tract homes a while back. In any case, won’t there be a chupacabra welcome committee meeting us?”
On the side of the road, the darkness shifted, shadows moving, and Shaw turned toward the movement on his left to get a better look.
“What the fuck was that?” he said.
The wheel drifted in the direction he was looking and the car hit a slick patch, twisting and spinning.
“Dammit.” Thud. Something pushed against Shaw’s seat from the back. Alec had fallen off the bench seat. “What the hell, Shaw?”
He turned into the spin, controlling the car’s movement, or so he thought until it hit the loose gravel along the side of the road and they slipped off, slamming the passenger’s side into a tree. They came to a complete stop, blanketed in darkness, and the moans came next.
“Everyone all right?” Shaw asked. Good thing they hadn’t been going that fast while looking for the turnoff to the farm. Otherwise, the accident could have been much, much worse.
“I’m good,” Jackson said.
Bright illumination flashed from the dome light in the ceiling. Blood trickled down his teammate’s face.
“Dude, that looks nasty.”
Shaw reached out to touch it and Jackson leaned back. “Hands off.”
“Put something on that to stop the blood flow. There are paper napkins in the glove compartment. What did you hit it on anyway?”
“Hell if I know.” He waved his hand in the air. “What was that all about anyway?”
Shaw shut his eyes, flashing on the dark shape, not an animal. It was upright, on two legs, and resembled a hunched over man. Bigfoot? He suppressed a laugh. Not big enough.
“I thought I saw something.”
In the backseat, Alec rolled down the window and shinned the light from his cell. “Well, there’s nothing out there now. At least you didn’t run over someone and kill them. Talk about the paperwork.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re funny? Real funny.”
“All the time.”
The engine sputtered and chugged and died completely. Shaw slid the shifter into park and cranked the key. Nothing.
“That’s great,” Jackson said. “Why don’t you two stop bickering and let’s see what we need to do to get out of this mess.”
He picked up his cell phone and made an exasperated sigh. “No service. Of course there’s no service way the fuck out here.”
“At least the client knows we’re coming,” Alec said. “If we don’t show up tonight, she’ll call the office.”
“Umm.” Shaw didn’t want to correct them. They were with a secret, not-discussed, elite taskforce; they’d figure out a way to get where they needed to go.
Jackson slapped his hand on the dashboard, centering their attention. “What did you say you saw again?”
A high-pitched screeching sound rent the air. Lucia grabbed onto the railing of the staircase and waited for the impact. She was just about to turn in for bed. It didn’t happen all that often, but every now and then—for whatever reason—someone crashed out there. When there wasn’t a lot of population and buildings, sound traveled farther.
The ultimate boom wasn’t as loud as it had been in the past. Still, she about-faced, grabbed her jacket from the pegs on the wall, and fished around in the cupboard for the medical kit.
“You need help?” Roxy, her youngest sister, asked. She sat at the dining room table, rolling her hair in curlers.
“I’ll take a walkie-talkie and stay in touch,” she directed. “The cell might not work in the storm. You stay here in case you have to call for medical services.”
“Not sure if I like this,” Roxy said. “Maybe you should wake Mack or Dad and have one of them go with you.”
“I’d rather go alone.” Lucia didn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt. Dragging their father out would only highlight what he no longer could do.
Knowing Lucia was going out, Foxy dashed to the door. “Don’t you start complaining, too,” she stroked the dog’s head. “I don’t know what I’ll find out there, so you need to stay inside.”
Roxanne clicked her tongue and patted her knee for the dog to come. “I really wish you wouldn’t have hung up on that group you got a hold of,” she said, sliding her fingers under Foxy’s collar. “We need the help, and from what you said, it seems like they’re it.”
“Then tell you what. Tomorrow, you can get on the phone and go through all the call-trees until you reach the ‘special’ group, and maybe you’ll be able to convince them that you’re not insane. Because I got nothing. I tried, and they weren’t interested.”
“Yeah, and maybe it was you,” she replied.
“I heard that.”
“Maybe I wasn’t trying to hide it.”
With a shake of her head, Lucia let the comment go and headed out to the main drag. First, she stopped in the barn and started up one of the golf carts. It was scary enough as it was out there. Despite living on the farm for her entire life and being more than familiar with the layout of the grounds, no way in hell she’d be walking it on foot.
The cart motored down the drive. The lights in the bunkhouse were all lit. Maybe Mack had invited his nephew already. Whatever noise it was, though, hadn’t brought him out. She’d have to check on him in the morning. Right now, there were more pressing matters to take care of.
Wind whipped through the trees, creating a high-pitched whistle almost like the keening of a person who’d lost a loved one. She should have brought a thicker jacket. It was foolish to go out at this time in just a rain coat, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of sweats. But if someone was hurt out on the road, she needed to get out there fast.
“Come in, Lucia. Come in,” her sister said over the walkie-talkie.
Lucia plucked it from the dashboard and pressed “Talk.”
“I’m here. Over.”
Static filled the speakers.
“Just checking on your status.”
“Not much to report yet. I’ll let you know when I get out there. Over.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
They’d planned for events such as this one. Her father was a firm believer in the just in case. Sometimes, Lucia thought he was a bit too much of a believer.
Like now. Her conscious nagged. She knew he thought the farm was being plagued by the legendary chupacabra. Why couldn’t he get it in his head it was a person, who was probably trying to get either to her or one of her sisters in all the wrong ways? She didn’t foresee it happening. Kind of like the old Scooby-Doo cartoons where the big bad guy always turned out to be a loser with a cause. Perhaps, someone wanted their land?
Out on the main highway, she stopped the golf cart at the intersection and flashed her light to the right and left. She heard them before she saw them. They were bickering in loud voices about something. Lucia did a mental inventory. Once again, she didn’t have any sort of weapon, except for the flashlight on the dash, and a small pair of safety scissors in the first-aid kit.
No matter how much she hadn’t wanted to admit it, she needed to start thinking about the potential side effects to roaming alone. Sure, she’d set out here in order to help someone else, but there was always the chance that it was a setup, just to catch her a
lone.
The sound of men’s voices grew louder. There were at least two, maybe three. If they could talk that much, they must be all right. They wouldn’t be able to argue so much, otherwise.
She followed the sound of their voices toward the right. Her first impression was to turn around and leave them to their own devices. None looked worse for wear. They were big guys. Huge. Football players? Maybe their car broke down in protest from lugging them around.
Right when she was making the decision to stay or go, one caught sight of her.
“Hey, there!” He held up his hand. “Think you might give us a lift?”
* * *
From the wane lights on the golf cart, he spied the woman, her body language all tight. She wore an ugly yellow rain slicker with an oversized hood shading her face. Shaw hadn’t seen what direction she’d come from, and he hadn’t heard the sound of the cart.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked, moving a little closer.
She stayed far enough from them to keep a safe buffer, Shaw observed. He liked that. She had no idea who they were. Of course, she’d be apprehensive. He noticed she also didn’t commit to helping them either.
Jackson, ever the charmer, stepped forward. “Our friend,” he accented his words by slapping Shaw on the back, “thought he saw something in the road. And better to run us into a ditch than to hit this invisible something.”
She swung a flashlight in an arc, sweeping the sides of the road in either direction, until coming to rest back on their car. The front passenger tire was flat and the front fender smashed to hell.
“Doesn’t look like you’ll be driving that tonight,” she said.
“That’s obvious,” Shaw murmured, only to be smacked again by Alec. “Owww. Keep that up and I’ll hit you back.”
“Now, guys,” Jackson got into the mix. “Let’s not give this woman—what’s your name?”
“Lucia,” she said, piquing Shaw’s interest even more. So this was the person who’d called.
“Don’t give a bad impression,” Jackson said. “She was kind enough to come check on us. I’m sure she won’t leave us stranded out here.”