Risk

by Jaime Johnesee

  Those bites were encrusted to the front of the bloated corpse, along with her vomit. He had forced her to eat part of herself. That was pure horror in itself, but what was scrawled above the body made it worse. It wasn’t the inscription so much as the fact it had been done in her own blood and pieces of her intestines.

  One by one they all fall down. Die AWFA!

  I gagged when I walked to the other side of her and saw a portion of her cheek missing with pieces of what I suspected, judging by the plate of lady thigh-steak in front of her, was her own flesh caught in her teeth.

  The sallow waxy skin and hugely bloated stomach lingered in my mind, along with the horror of her lidless, lipless, cheekless face, and the disgust of seeing one of her eyelids and half a cheek on her plate. This woman had been tortured beyond anything I could imagine. Fighting for control of my stomach, I walked back up the hall as quickly as I could.

  Forced to eat herself, and not once, but thrice. I gagged again, coerced my stomach into calming down, then called in an update and waited outside the door for Quinn. I needed some time before I could go back in there.

  You need to calm down. I can sense your fear. I told you the meat was bad.

  You were right.

  I do not like the smell. I am going away until it is gone. Be careful not to be around predators right now. You smell like food.

  I understand.

  She loped away and I took her advice and tried to still the replay of horrors in my mind.

  Quinn came walking up. “Hey, I got the….” he trailed off when he saw the greenish tint to my skin. “You’ve already been inside, I take it?”

  “The door was open and it’s bad, really bad. The worst I’ve seen. Worse than Grisly, but not as violent, if that makes any sense.”

  He opened the door and proceeded into the apartment.

  “Ugh. That smell, though.”

  “The sight is worse.”

  He went in and was quiet for a while. I wondered if I had overreacted to the smell and sight because of Jix and my new super sniffer.

  “Oh, Mother of God!” Yup, he found her, and nope, I hadn’t overreacted.

  After some silence and the sound of retching, I called in, “You doing okay?”

  “Better than her.”

  “That goes without saying, methinks.” I steeled my stomach and walked back into the apartment.

  I wished I’d brought some of my menthol and lemongrass ointment stuff in with me. It was in the trunk and I was seriously considering going outside to get it. A bit around the nostrils kept the smell of decomposition away and made it easier to run through a scene.

  I got sidetracked by Q when he started running through our unsub’s behavior patterns. “I don’t think this is a shifter. There’s no sign of claws or teeth at all. Why tie them up and force them to self-cannibalize when you can rip them to shreds with your own hands?” He pointed to the wounds.

  “Good question. I have another; what is up with the anti-AWFA stuff?”

  “I have a feeling we are going to find out. When we do, I imagine it will be similar to other extremists, including AWFA.”

  “I can’t say it’s not troubling me, but I can say that it’d probably trouble me more if AWFA hadn’t tried to have me killed in the past.” My eyes fell on the dried sliver of her flesh on the plate and I thought about what had been done to her. It made my stomach lurch.

  “Understandable.” Quinn looked a bit green himself.

  “I’m going to call this in.”

  “I’ll take another look around.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Thank you.” I stepped out of the apartment and onto the balcony, pulled out my cell and began dialing. A tear hit my cheek as I took in a grateful gulp of fresh air.

  These poor people.

  Chapter 14

  AFTER CALLING IN the update I got a call of my own from Alex. “Sam, we need you and Quinn down here.”

  It came just as we had managed to coordinate things with the local LEOs at our scene.

  I grimaced and answered, “What’s your twenty?”

  “We’re in Mountainbrook,” Al answered.

  “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I hope your scene isn’t as bad as what I just left.”

  “It’s bad. You might want to grab some cough drops and that lemon vaporub stuff you make, please.” Alex said more with that last word than he could have if he’d detailed it.

  “Ours was probably two weeks dead. The coroner said we’d have to wait for an official time, but that was their best guesstimate.”

  “Okay, so this one is slightly fresher, but he did some nightmarish stuff.”

  “Like forced her to eat her own flesh?” I was hoping I was wrong.

  “Damn, two scenes, same guy?”

  “Sounds like.”

  “How many more people do we need to find?” He looked at the list

  “Three. Birmingham Police are tracking them down now.”

  “We need to let people know they should be sure to check their vacant properties. I’d be willing to bet we find at least a couple more scenes like this.”

  “I sure as fuck hope not.”

  “Me, too. We have to ask ourselves if the decomp times are at least a week apart, how long has he been doing this and how many more kills are there in between your vic and mine?”

  “I don’t want to know. Let’s just do what we can with what we got.” His voice trembled in a way that let me know he wasn’t happy with what we had. Neither was I.

  “Gerry says he’s sending a couple of agents to take over for you. He wants for you and Quinn to get some pics of your scene then get over here and we will compare them. I have a signature here you need to see. Did you happen to have a signature over there?”

  “Yes, but I’m not saying what it was over the phone.”

  “Good idea. So far it really sounds like the same guy, but it could be two separate murders.”

  “Here’s hoping. On my way.” I grabbed Quinn and told him what was going on.

  We left the scene in the capable hands of the Birmingham PD and the coroner. I informed them before we left—while Quinn was taking pics—that two agents had been sent to assist and would be there shortly.

  I got into my car with Q, started her up, and pulled out into traffic, reluctantly. As much as I loved driving my baby, the last thing I wanted to do was go see another person who had been tortured and left to rot. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  I should’ve been a dentist.

  I turned on the radio and let the music settle into me, Billie Holiday singing Blue Moon helped. Not enough, but some. Luckily, my partner wasn’t in the mood to chat. He hummed along with me as I sang, though.

  I sing and joke to get these images out of my mind. It never works. Nobody should ever have to see these things. These horrible acts supposedly civilized people do to each other—things that should never be thought about, let alone done.

  Beings like these are a cancer in our society and knowing that these evil beings are out there—taking and hurting people for their own amusement—angers me. It also fuels me to find and stop them.

  My past has shaped me into who I am today. The things I have gone through could have broken me, sure, but I refused to let them. Instead, I used them to stand up for those in less powerful positions.

  That’s the difference between a victim and a survivor. The survivors of the horrors I see need someone who understands that. They need someone who doesn’t look on them with pity, but with encouragement and hope.

  They also need answers. Sometimes I can provide them; most often, though, I can only be there for them when they weep, relief at rescue warring with the desire for death to escape the hell that has been visited upon them.

  A hell that shall haunt them the rest of their eternity.

  I know that feeling deeply. I’ve spent my life engaged in that battle. It’s one that has followed me every single step of my life thus far. I’m grateful for
it in one respect, as it gives me a place to approach fellow survivors from. I choose to fight to keep those who hurt me from winning. The people I help, they need to know that it does get better; if you let it.

  Unfortunately, there was nobody alive to help at either of these anti-AWFA scenes. I couldn’t help these people, not anymore. I could get justice for their deaths, but it wouldn’t be enough. It never was. Being able to keep other people from dying is the closest I can come.

  I pulled into the lot and James Brady came forward to the car. I grabbed my jar of lemongrass balm from the trunk. I used it myself and offered it to the others. James gratefully took some as he led Quinn and I up to the apartment that was the scene we needed to see. Quinn greased his nose as we walked.

  One by one they all fall down! Death to AWFA!

  It had been painted on the wall in what appeared to be blood. I didn’t need to see the body to confirm this was the same suspect or suspects. “We had a similar message at ours. It might even be the exact same, but we’ll have to look at the pics to be sure.”

  “Damn. You ready?” James asked as Alex walked over.

  “No, but let’s get it over with. You can take me to an all you can eat buffet afterwards.” I winked at him and he smiled, acknowledging the gallows humor, but shook his head letting me know it wasn’t the time.

  “It’s bad, Sam.”

  “So was the one we had, Al.” It came off slightly more churlish than I’d intended.

  He stepped aside and I opened the door to the master bedroom. I immediately regretted it.

  A similarly bloated and decomposing corpse—minus a few more pieces of meat—as the one at my scene sat atop the bed. A bed that was coated in blood. Not only had the unsub fed the victims pieces of themselves, they also fed them pieces of each other.

  The other corpse sat in a chair by the bed. He, too, was missing steak-sized pieces. Judging by a plate nearby, the unsub had forced him to eat his own penis.

  Harsh.

  “Sam, Quinn, meet Councilman Marcus Roberts and his wife, Suzanne.”

  I was grateful I’d used the lemongrass balm. “Jesus. I’m no fan of AWFA, but these killings are horrific.”

  “I have to agree there. There is no reason to do this to someone aside from sick twisted desires and the gross depravation of one’s own humanity.” Quinn’s face was flushed and his nostrils were slightly flared. He gritted his teeth when he spoke, “This monster needs to be put down.”

  “I agree, Mr. Poetic. But some of these creatures need to be studied so we can pinpoint the time in their development where they get beyond saving.” Alex motioned for the jar of balm and I handed it to him.

  He took some and gave it back to me with a nod. “I don’t understand why he played with their entrails so much, postmortem.”

  He held out the container of balm to James who pointed to his own nose and said, “Already got some, thanks.”

  “This one must have been born evil.” Quinn handed me his phone; Gerry was on the line and it was on speaker.

  I had my own views on this that differed from Quinn’s, but I held my tongue and looked around. Nature vs. nurture would always be a hot button subject between us.

  “Quinn, is that … ejaculate in the woman’s body cavity?” I pointed at the creamy fluid I saw sitting atop her innards within her gutted corpse.

  “It appears to be. We’ll know more after the coroner swabs it. This guy is evolving. It’s become less about using hate to punish and more about enjoying what he’s doing.”

  People never fail to terrify and sadden me. “Excuse me.” I stepped out in the hall for a moment to catch my breath and get some fresher air. The guys were close behind.

  “What have you guys learned?” Al asked. “Did you compare photos yet? I got the set of your scene that you sent me, Quinn, and the ones you sent, James.”

  “Good. We’ve got the pics up now and techs are looking at them side by side.” I’d taken pics with my phone from the moment we’d entered the apartment. “We haven’t seen the whole scene here yet.”

  “Let me know when you do. I want to know what you think our unsub is up to.”

  There was a reason our killer had picked these people and I didn’t think the city council angle had as much to do with it as that the victims were AWFA supporters or members. “I think this is because of what these victims stand for. They want the death of supers. Our killer sees them the same as Nazis and he’s not wrong, really. I think he is going to want to take out the top tier. He is looking to shut down or cripple AWFA.”

  “He won’t stop there,” Gerry said. I held out my lemongrass balm and he took some and thanked me.

  “Nope, you’re right about that. He isn’t going to stop until we stop him.” As we entered the house again, I screwed the lid back on my balm and then set the jar on the kitchen counter by the box of gloves and shoe covers. I’d make more. Everyone hitting these scenes was going to need it.

  “Sam, these AWFA members being murdered means we have to offer them protection.” Gerry looked at me and quickly glanced away, uncomfortable with the situation.

  “I know, boss. It’s safe to say I’m not a fan of AWFA, but nobody should die like this. Protection is warranted.” I truly felt bad for the poor bigoted monsters who felt that those like me ought to be put to death for existing.

  This scene was bleak. Just like ours had been. Also like ours, thousands of pine trees hung from the ceiling, all different colors and fragrances. It was another chaotic assault on my nose that even my balm couldn’t chill.

  I opened a cough drop and allowed the menthol from it to combine with the menthol lemongrass balm to take away the bulk of the awful manufactured scents. Unfortunately, it still left behind the lingering mephitis of death.

  Again, the killer had set up in the bedroom; pieces of both corpses were strewn about the scene. Not only had they been forced to eat each other, but the killer had taken pieces from one and sewn them directly onto the other. Gobbets of flesh were splattered throughout the room as if someone had tossed a handful of gory hellish confetti.

  Drops of blood as well as pieces of hair and tissue marked a terrifying trail to the bathroom, ending in a blood and viscera spattered shower stall. The fact he had showered and attempted to conceal his crime combined with his obvious escalation, left no doubt in my mind that the scenes would only get worse. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  It was reminding me way too much of Grisly. What if the bear hadn’t been AWFA trained? No, that was conspiracy theory bullshit. It wasn’t possible. Grisly had been trained by McNamara and AWFA. The man had admitted as much when I’d interviewed him. But … what if this killer had also been AWFA trained, but learned that shifters and vamps weren’t evil?

  As horrific as AWFA had been in their treatment of weres and vamps, they’d created this problem for themselves and, as someone who was a target of their hate, I wanted very much to let them rot in it. But I wouldn’t, because that would make me less than the person I wanted to be.

  Damn morals.

  “I hate to tell you this, but I have to put you on protection detail. You’re one of the last agents transferred into our department and that means you have to do some babysitting. I asked for an exception, being as you are a were and having you protect someone who wants to see you dead might be awkward.”

  “I’m a professional, Gerry, I will handle myself as such.” I was grateful he asked, though.

  I would love to get out of this, but I’d be damned if I let those bigoted assholes win.

  Nothing like having to protect the very people who had tried to have me killed and, when that failed, framed for murder. Fabulous. Just another lovely Tuesday. Slightly better than a homicidal bear shifter trying to gut me in my own living room, but not by much. Especially when one considers said grizzly had been sent by the very folks I was going to have to help protect.

  Yay.

  “That’s good to hear, but I hope you know I never doubted you. Anyw
ay, there’s a young woman we are going to assign you to protect. She was used as a lure for the sex trade. She got the girls to trust her and then she turned them over to Danvers.”

  “Let me guess; she’ll give us all the information she has on her boss and his boss and their boss, in exchange for witness protection and immunity?”

  “Yep. You get to determine if she has something to say of value. If she does, she gets protection. If not, well, you can street her.”

  “But there’s a killer out there looking for AWFA members.”

  “Well, then, she’d better have something to tell us, hadn’t she? Wink, wink.”

  “Man, that’s cold; yeah, I can use it. She probably expects something like that in the first place. If she’s not hardcore AWFA—which I’m thinking she’s not, based on how quickly she jumped ship—then she knows who they are and can help us root them out and protect them.”

  “I hope so. As usual, names and dates and all that sort of information would be considered helpful and would go a long way with a judge and the Marshal Service.”

  “You’ve got it. Have her waiting for me in an interrogation room, please. Then turn up the heat and give her lots of ice water. Let her use the bathroom first.”

  “Sam, I’m no newbie.” His tone let me know he was amused—and not upset—by my slight overstepping.

  “Right, sorry, boss.”

  “We have information that suggests she can also help us track down the shifters that have been sold.”

  “If she does, you’ll have it. I promise that much.” I’d do everything I could to help those poor folks who had been sold into Hell.

  “See you when you get here. Quinn, I want you to stay behind and supervise evidence recovery.” Quinn’s phone beeped and went quiet in my hand as Gerry hung up. I gave it back to Q.

  “Not exactly looking forward to it. Hearing what a vicious and vile creature you are twice in one day is a lot for anyone.” I wasn’t really talking to anybody in particular, but Q patted my shoulder.