Jamie

by I D Johnson

  She nodded, finally turning her head to meet his eyes again. “I’m sure he’d be happy to work with you, if you want.”

  He’d have to think about it. Did he really want Hunters using weapons that could kill Guardians so easily? Would he want to be responsible for that? Of course, there were some teams that already swore by them, so it wasn’t anything new. He had even heard of one famous Guardian who had been killed by a stray bullet fired by a Hunter. If he was going to be involved with perfecting the gun as a weapon for Hunters and Guardians, he would need to do a lot of research. Otherwise, he’d leave that to someone else.

  “Anyway, Jeffrey’s sending me off to Georgia. My train leaves in about an hour. I just… I just wanted to tell you I think it’s exceptional that you were able to heal both yourself and Sol so quickly. You’re remarkable. I wish I’d gotten to know you better.”

  Jamie couldn’t help but smile. She really was quite lovely, even when she was so upset. “I’m sure you’ll do great things in Georgia, Kit. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Without another word, she leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek, and Jamie felt his face turn crimson. “Goodbye, Jamie.”

  “Goodbye,” he said. And before he could say anything else, she was gone.

  Sighing, Jamie looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps he would’ve had an opportunity to get to know Kit better if she hadn’t been reassigned. Perhaps Kit would’ve found a way to actually kill him next time, for that matter. It was too bad he couldn’t find a nice young woman to share this experience with. It seemed like he would be a bachelor for the rest of his life.

  The sound of the door interrupted his pity party, and he looked up to see Sol standing at the foot of his bed. He had a broad smile on his face and his arms were spread wide open. Dressed in a similar outfit to the one he’d had on the day before, though the pants were intact, he looked almost as cocky as he had when Jamie had first met him.

  “There he is!” he exclaimed. “The man who saved my leg.”

  “Hello, Sol,” Jamie said, smiling at his enthusiasm. “How are you?”

  He jumped around a bit, even did a little jig. “Good as new. I owe it all to you, Doc. You’re amazing.” He stepped around the side of the bed, and Jamie sat up to clasp his hand as he leaned down to hug him.

  “Glad I could help. Sorry you had to suffer so long before I woke up.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Sol admitted sitting down on the bed next to him. Jamie felt a little awkward, but he was still pretty weak himself so he only scooted over a bit.

  “How did it happen?” Jamie wondered.

  “The stairs,” Sol replied with shrug. “That bastard was getting away, so I launched myself at him, and he flipped me over his shoulder. Whack! Down the stairs I fell. Son of a bitch threw himself off balance, too, though, so he was right behind me, tumbling down two flights of stairs before Joe caught up to him. Didn’t take long after that ‘til he ripped his head, thwack, clean off.”

  This story was every bit as animated as the one from the day before, though Jamie was glad there was no cigar smoke this time. “Well, I’m certainly glad you got him. And did one go out the window from the other room?”

  “Yeah, that crazy bitch leapt right out of that window. The team on the ground got her though. And the other son of a bitch in the adjacent room was dead meat the second we burst the door down. He never saw what was coming. You don’t screw around with Abel.”

  Jamie nodded, thinking that sounded about right. “I’m glad we got everyone.”

  “Me, too. Especially after we found the bones of all of those missing people in a trunk in the closet.” Sol nodded, and Jamie shuttered, not sure what to think of that exactly. “Anyway, you still look like hell. Guess I’ll let you catch a few more winks. Thanks again, man.” He reached out for Jamie’s hand again, and he gave it to him. “Sorry Kit shot you. At least we won’t have to worry about her anymore.” He clapped his hands down on his legs and practically leapt off of the bed, and Jamie was glad he wasn’t checking for his reaction about his last comment. “Where you headed to now, Doc?”

  “Wherever the wind takes me,” Jamie joked. “No, I don’t know. It just depends on what Uncle Culpepper and Jordan Findley want me to do.”

  “Well, wherever it is, I hope it goes well. You’re something else, man. I tell you that. A real treasure.”

  “Thank you,” was all Jamie could manage to say, not sure how else to respond. He watched Sol walk out of the room and wondered if he’d been all wrong about that guy. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Perhaps he needed to learn to be a little slower to jump to judgement. It really wasn’t fair to decide he didn’t like someone within a few minutes of meeting them.

  Jamie settled back down into the bed, hoping he could get a little more sleep before anyone else came into the room. He still felt woozy and exhausted. As he fell asleep, he prayed once more that soon he’d be able to go back to Boston. There really was no place quite like one’s home.

  Chapter 18

  London, England, 1889

  Jamie had only been in London a few days, but he already felt immersed in the new case Jordan had assigned him to. For the past two years, he’d been spending most of his time in Boston, but every once in a while, he’d be sent out to help hunt down a Vampire in instances where his medical expertise could be of assistance or when there was a primary threat that might involve serious wounds to the Hunters involved. In this case, he had been requested by name. His reputation had preceded him, even across the pond, as they say, and Ward, the leader of the team in London and most of England, had asked Jordan if Jamie could be spared. It had taken some convincing, but eventually, the Guardian Leader had given in and sent the Healer to work on this unusual case.

  The first couple of days, Jamie had been focused on getting brought up to speed by Ward, local authorities, and medical doctors. Apparently, someone was killing prostitutes in a seedier area of London, known as Whitechapel, and there was reason to suspect the murderer might actually be undead. While Jamie didn’t like to jump to conclusions, now that he’d had the opportunity to look at all of the evidence himself, he thought it worth investigating. If this was the work of a vampire, however, he was certainly very different than any monster Jamie had ever encountered before.

  He sat in a spare office Ward had assigned him in their headquarters overlooking Hyde Park. He had yet to meet every member of the extensive team, though he had met a few of them over the last few days. One in particular made him very nervous. An experienced Guardian with the type of leadership skills that instantly showed the moment he opened his mouth, Jamie readily admitted to himself the man intimidated him. Thoughts of sitting around a table discussing his findings with the rest of the team, a group of strangers for the most part, had Jamie’s stomach churning. The thoughts of meeting yet one more group of people made him uneasy. Every time he went on a new assignment, he had to start over, and he still wasn’t used to the judgmental stares his age always brought. “How can he be a physician when he looks like a baby?” their stares would say. “Can someone who’s only been doing this a few years really know what he is talking about?” Perhaps their critiques wouldn’t sting so much if he didn’t ask himself the same questions every day.

  A tapping at the door took him away from the photograph he’d been studying. The photograph was the most recent victim who was a confirmed kill for this guy, Jack the Ripper, they’d taken to calling him. Mary Kelly, a twenty-five-year-old prostitute, and been brutally mutilated, her organs taken, her body splayed open. While it didn’t seem like something a vampire would do at first glance, the fact that they’d had confirmation from another Vampire that Jack was one of them, and there was evidence that at least a few of the suspected victims had puncture wounds on the neck, hidden by slashes, a tell-tale sign of a vampire, not to mention less blood than expected on earlier victims—though Ms. Kelly’s photo stood in contrast to that rule—nevertheless, Jamie agreed the Ripper was likel
y undead.

  “How’s it going, Doc?” Ward asked, a reassuring smile on his face. “You have any questions before we meet with the rest of the team?”

  “Nice to see you, Ward,” Jamie replied, standing. “I was just going back over some of my notes. No, I don’t think I have any questions. Just eager to hear what the rest of the team has to say.” He hoped his smile looked more confident than he felt.

  “Very good,” Ward nodded. “Let’s be on our way then.” The older gentleman made a sweeping gesture with his hand, and Jamie gathered his file and followed him out the door.

  When they entered the conference room, no one else was present. Jamie took the seat to Ward’s right, and the leader took his position at the head of the table. “Now, you’ve already met a few of our team members, the most important ones,” Ward said quietly. “I don’t want to waste time introducing everyone, so I’ll give you a briefing now.”

  “Sounds fair,” Jamie replied, thinking it odd that the leader wouldn’t just go around the table once they were all settled, but this was not his jurisdiction.

  “There are two ladies. Berta is a Guardian. She’s German. You’ll know her when you see her. You’ve met Vicky.” Jamie nodded. He remembered meeting the beautiful, blonde Hunter the day before. She’d been with the other fellow, the one with the striking blue eyes who looked at him like he was an insect. “Then, there’s Edmund, a newer Guardian, Frank, an old son-of-a-bitch who’ll do whatever it takes to get his bloodsucker. He’s a Hunter with a cockney accent, which I still can’t understand. There’s Harvey and Paul, both Guardians, both experienced and reliable if not particularly innovative. And then there’s Georgie, Mike, and Carlo. They don’t say much. They’re all three Hunters, mostly from around here. They haven’t been particularly involved in this case, though I’ve sent them to talk to the cops and things like that.”

  “Right,” Jamie nodded. “And then—whose the other gentleman? The Guardian I met the other day with Vicky?” He wanted to add, “The one that scrutinized me with his eyes until I doubted my own work,” but didn’t bother.

  “Oh, yes. That’s my best man,” Ward replied. But before he could elaborate, the door opened, and a stream of team members came in, already in conversation. They took their spots around the table, and Jamie nodded hello to each of them as they addressed him, feeling slightly out of place.

  The man in question sat right across from him, and it didn’t surprise Jamie to think he’d take such a prominent place. The girl, Vicky, who caught Jamie’s eyes and smiled, sat down next to the other fellow and they whispered to each other, eyeing the woman at the end of the table, Berta, Jamie recalled, who was talking rather loudly. Her German accent was certainly noticeable.

  “All right, everyone, let’s quiet down,” Ward insisted, and within a moment everyone was silent. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, and I don’t want to waste any time. I know some of you went out into the field last night, so I’d like to hear what went on.”

  “Have we got a story for you!” One of the gentlemen further down the table chimed in, and Jamie leaned over the man on his right, whom he thought must be Harvey, to listen in. The cockney accent of the speaker let him know he was likely Frank.

  “We were doing our rounds, as usual, nothing out of the ordinary, when suddenly I get that feeling in my gut, like somethin’s amiss. And this ain’t one of those regular flip flops either, mind you. My stomach is screaming an alarm.” Frank surveyed the table, as if he were looking to make sure he had everyone’s attention, which he did.

  His pause had lasted too long, and he’d lost his opportunity. Berta jumped in and continued the story. “So we turn down a narrow alleyway, and at the other end, we see the outline of a man, standing in the shadows, silhouetted by a nearby gaslight.”

  “He’s wearing a top hat and cape, just as the eyewitnesses have described, and when he sees us, he takes off running, like he knows he’s been caught,” Frank continued.

  The more excited Berta became, the harder her German accent was to understand, but Jamie listened in carefully. “We gave chase, but he was fast—much faster than anyone we’d encountered before.”

  Nodding, Frank added, “I’m no spring chicken, and Berta’s more strength than speed.”

  “Eventually, we turn the corner and see him leap up and over a tall stone wall. By the time we got there and reached the top, he was gone.” With a shrug, Berta concluded their story.

  Jamie caught a confused expression on Ward’s face. “And you think this was our man?”

  “Absolutely,” Frank assured him. “We retraced our steps, and once we got back to the original alleyway, we discovered something we hadn’t seen in the first place because it was dark, and we were focused on the Vampire.”

  The man sitting next to him, the one Jamie believed to be Harvey, asked, “What was it?” The entire table was quiet as everyone listened intently.

  Clearing her throat, Berta quietly replied, “A woman.” Vicky, the Hunter sitting across the table, gasped. They were all thinking the same thing, Jamie was sure. “She was on the ground, in the shadows. She was still breathing, but her neck was bruised. It’s as if he strangles them before he feeds, then he dismembers their bodies to leave little trace of their true wounds.”

  “Why would he do that?” Jamie wasn’t sure who the man who asked the question was, though he thought it might be the newer Guardian Ward had told him about, Edmund or something-or-other. He seemed to be asking no one in particular.

  Jamie heard Ward let loose a loud sigh and turned to see the Leader was actually staring right at him. “Dr. Joplin, do you have a response to that?”

  Caught off guard, Jamie wasn’t quite sure what to say. His mouth suddenly seemed very dry. He cleared his throat, hoping to gain a moment to formulate a response. It didn’t help that he could feel the gaze of the Guardian across from him seeming to penetrate into his brain. It was as if he knew Jamie was nervous and wanted to make him as uncomfortable as possible. After some consideration, Jamie began, “Well, there could be a number of reasons why the Ripper might take such actions, but, in my opinion, he’s doing it to prevent blood loss from the wounds he inflicts after death.”

  Leaning toward him, Ward asked, “How’s that?”

  Keeping his eyes locked on Ward’s friendly face, Jamie continued his explanation. “So… if you think of the heart as a pump, driving blood to the various parts of the body, if one were to make an incision, particularly the large slashing cuts the Ripper uses in the neck and torso areas, while the heart is still pumping blood, there will be a splattering effect, far beyond what we are seeing now, which is only due to the particular motion the slayer is using when he makes the cuts. Asphyxiating the victim before the incisions are made is one way to lessen the effects the pumping motion has on the blood splatter.” He looked around the room to see if everyone understood and saw contemplative faces.

  With a grimace on her pretty face, Vicky asked, “Do you think he does this so that he can drain the victim?”

  Speaking directly to the pretty blonde made Jamie feel a bit more confident. Nodding, he answered, “I believe that is part of the reason, though we know that Jack does not feed off of his victims to the extent one would expect from a typical Vampire. He seems to be more fascinated with both the hunt and the dissection, at least in most of these cases, so it might just be that stopping the heart before he makes his incisions gives him a cleaner work area if you will.”

  It was difficult for Jamie to tell whether or not the team understood him or saw his perspective as valid, but most of them seemed to be nodding along, and he felt as if he might’ve actually been able to do his job, which in this case was to provide some sort of explanation for the unexplainable and reason for an unreasonable monster.

  With a warm smile and a nod of confidence, Ward said, “Thank you, Jamie. I think it is fair to say, then, that the Ripper was in the process of dispatching this young lady when you discovered her, and there’s like
ly a possibility that Dr. Joplin’s explanation is the reason why.”

  Another fellow Jamie didn’t know asked, “Did she live?” His accent was thick, and Jamie thought he sounded Spanish, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “We alerted the police, and they took her to hospital. Since she hasn’t made the papers, I’m assuming so,” Frank answered with a shrug.

  Harvey, the man next to him, asked, “Do we think Mylett could’ve been another victim interrupted then?” Jamie remembered the name of the victim from early December that both the police and the press refused to attribute to the Ripper. There’d been information about her in the files he’d been given, and he had jotted some of it down and had it in the papers in front of him if he needed to reference it. However, before he could dig it out, an answer came from across the table.

  “Actually, we got some information on that last night.” Vicky stopped and looked at her partner, who just raised his eyebrows at her. Jamie had no idea what the silent exchange was about, but ultimately, she deferred to him, and he began to speak.

  “We ran into our informant last night,” he explained, shrugging. “According to him, Mylett was not a Ripper victim. He says she killed herself.”

  “That seems implausible,” the man Jamie had decided might be Edmund chimed in. “Who strangles herself in the dead of winter in a public park?”

  Ward spoke up. “One of the reasons we haven’t accepted the police’s official report.”

  The blue eyed man, the fellow Jamie had met, and yet couldn’t for the life of him remember his name, continued. “Our friend also says that the girl found with the stake through her stomach the day after Christmas was a Ripper victim. He says this is an indicator that the Ripper is ‘changing things up,’ that the police are on to him, and we can expect more diversification in the future.” When he’d finished, he looked around at each of their faces, and Jamie did as well. Everyone looked stone sober, as if they realized this would be a much longer road to hoe than they had anticipated.