Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (39 page)

1
8

When the ambulance delivered me to the ER, I was still conscious but just barely.
The doctor took one look at me and ordered the attendants to steer me toward an examining room.
I was too tired to argue.
In the reflection of a glass-door cabinet, I saw the livid purple bruise across my lower back
where the ladder had hit me
. It was tender to the touch and I suspected it would be
sore
for quite some time.
My right shoulder, already the recipient of so much punishment
lately
,
also sported several deep
bruise
s
from the recoil of the elephant gun.

“You’re in horrible shape, Detective,” he said.
“No kidney damage,” he said as he pressed and prodded as I winced and tried hard not to cry out in pain.
“You may have some injury to your vertebra
l column. We can
take
some X-rays to
check
.”

N
ext, he examined
the
cuts
to my stomach and thigh
.

“My God
,” he stammered.
“
These wounds are
badly
infected but they look fresh.”

I nodded and pointed to the scar on my shoulder. “I’ve been through this before
, doc
. Just
shoot me full of
antibiotics and let me go home.
We can hold off on the X-rays
too
.
I fe
e
l fine.”

He scowled at me.
“
You can’t even sit up straight and you’re burning up with fever. You’re staying here for awhile.”

I
tried to argue but he ignored my protests.
I simply
shrugged. “As you wish
,
D
oc
.
A girl came in here earlier, Amy Mays
.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “What do you know about her?”

“Is she all right?”

“She will live.”

I nodded, thankful for that. “What about the woman who brought her here?”

He glanced up from the chart on which he was scribbling.
“She dropped her off and left. Very curious. Do you know her?”

I was glad Joria got away
.
“A little. Where is Ms. Mays now
?
”

“She’s in a private room guarded by the police. Is she in some kind of trouble?”

I lay back and closed my eyes.
“She’s in less trouble than I am.”

****

I was getting used to
a
wak
en
ing in the hospital. This time, I did
n’t
fight. I did
n’t
have the energy. I had hardly slept
the past
three days. I was sore, exhausted and still feverish from my wounds.
My back felt as if someone had kidney punched me.
It was difficult to find a position in which to lie that didn’t cause
me
severe discomfort. Still
,
I did
n’t
complain.
I was alive and the creature wasn’t.
I
meekly
let the nurses bath
e
me and change my dressings. I nodded silently when the doctor explained that I should take time off work to let my injuries heal.

I decided he was right.
The case was solved. The creature was dead. All the guilt that had
been driving
me was gone, burned out by the fever perhaps
or
from
the fact
that I had satiated
my rage.
I had made bad mistakes but in the end, I had won. I suppose I should have felt triumphant. Instead, I felt melancholy. I could never regain the peace I had once felt when all I had to deal with were perverts and other assorted trash.
I had won
, but dampening m
y
victory
was the
realization
that nature was always one up on us, whether it be a hurricane, an earthquake or a
hellish
mythical creature from earth’s dawn.
We were living in a different world.
I couldn’t help wondering what else was out there in the shadows.

Now, I knew that something far worse existed, perhaps here or in South America, perhaps Eastern Europe where such things as vampires, gargoyles and other mythical creatures have always been a part of their history.
Chupacabra
were real. They posed a real threat to mankind.
If one such myth existed, could others?
How could I sleep soundly knowing this?

My reward for solving the case was a week off.
I tried to find Joria but she had already checked out of the fleabag motel where I tracked her. I found my Explorer parked in front of my
condominium
and the keys in my mailbox.
She kept popping
in and out of my life like a ghost. I only hoped Section One hadn’t found her and spirited her away.

I needed time alone, so I went into the country
w
here my
second
ex-
wife and I once had a cabin
by a lake
. It belonged to her now, but I knew where
she hid the key
inside a fake rock in an ornamental bed of
red gravel
. The lake was
remote and
quiet. I spent the first day drinking beer and feeling sorry for myself; then
I
decided
enough was enough and went
fishing. It had been years since I had last cast a lure in the water, but soon found the repetiti
ve process of casting and slowly reeling back in
a balm to my
battered
soul. My mind drifted to better times, little snatches of glorious days, golden days that
had
seemed so marvelous at the time but were forgotten in the barrage of mundane
life
, only to be dredged up years later and savored like a fine wine aged slowly.    
  

I managed to catch three decent trout, which, with some
pan-fried
potatoes and a bottle of white wine I found in the pantry, became my dinner.
I was just finishing my meal when I looked up and saw Joria standing on the porch. I put down my fork and stared at her.
She eyed the trout on the platter hungrily.

“Care to join me,” I asked.

She smiled and sat down across from me.
I didn’t speak as
I took another wine glass from the side table and poured her some wine
as she wolfed down the
cold
trout and potatoes.
I tried to formulate my thoughts
as I looked at her. My eyes kept straying to her skimpy top, which
did little to hide her breasts or hide her protruding nipples.
She took a
deep
sip from the glass and set it down.

“It was a long walk from the village.”

I nodded appreciatively. “About five miles
as the crow flies.”

She
raised her glass and finished its contents
. “I’m not a crow. It took hours. I’m exhausted.”

I offered her more wine but she shook her head.
“I looked for you
.”

“I know. I saw you once, but
our friends were following you.
One of your neighbors told me you were going to your cabin.
It only took a few minutes on the internet to find it.”

I mused that Joria would make a good detective.
“How did you get here?”

“I hitch-hiked
; then walked.”

I smiled as I imagined how readily horny, drooling drivers offered her rides.

“You find that amusing?” she quipped.

“Slightly,” I answered truthfully. “
Did they ask how far you were going?”

My little joke was lost on her. Instead of replying, she asked, “
Are you going to take me to bed, or what?”

I eyed the leftovers and dirty dishes and decided they would wait for morning.

* * * *

I awoke at dawn
to find Joria entangled in the sheets beside me
snoring softly
.
Her luscious leg thrust
across the bed. I followed it with my eyes to
the curve of
her soft, rounded buttocks. Whatever doubts I had about her or how she felt about me, she held nothing back in bed.
I
had felt more like a victim than a willing
participant had
a
s
she attacked me
as soon as we were undressed. I was exhausted but I had no complaints. I suppose every man ha
s
fantasies about
being ravaged by a woman. Now, mine was fulfilled
. I
dressed quietly and walked out
to watch the sun
rise
from the time it first painted the top of the hills beyond the lake
a
burnt gold until its
fiery
fingers caressed the still
lake wa
ters.

This slice of idyllic life did not last long, however
as
the rumble of
a helicopter
broke the
early morning
silence.
At first, I feared it was the Feds having tracked me down, but I relaxed when I saw the Fish and Game insignia
emblazoned
on its side.
It disappeared over the mountain and stillness returned.

“They didn’t follow me.”

I turned to find Joria standing in the doorway wearing a pair of my ex’s jeans and top
, filling
them out much better than my ex ever had.
She had a cat-who-ate-the-canary smile and I wondered if it related to our lovemaking.

“If you found me, they can,” I retorted.

“They’re not following you anymore. You killed the last of the
Chupacabra
. You beat them.
They want me.
”

I detected a touch of bitterness in her voice. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me for killing her study subject o
r
toward Section One for their pursuit of her.

“What will you do now?”

She turned away and spoke softly. “That’s up to you.”

Her answer surprised me. “Me?”

She turned back and looked at me expectantly. “If you will go with me, I will meet with Section One.
They have no proof that I was involved with the death of their agent.
Now that the creature is dead, their interest in me will wane
.
”

I took a deep breath
as my
heart pounded in my chest
.
“And then?”

She came to me and wrapped her arms around me. “
I like your country. I like you. If you will have me, I will
stay here.”

I tried to think with more than my balls. I wanted her; perhaps I even needed her, but
like a viper in the woodpile, my nagging doubt reared its ugly head and hissed.

“You lied to me.”

I felt her arms slacken. “Into my chest, she said, “Can we not get over that? I explained that I was confused. In the end, I helped you.”

I had to admit
that she had probably saved Amy May’s life, but how many had died because she had held back information.
I remembered people like Anglemeyer
the gun dealer
, for whom I had looked the other way on minor offenses. Could I do less for her?
The
Chupacabra
was dead, as she had said. Maybe it was time for fresh starts for both of us.

I embraced her and whispered in her ear. “Welcome to America.”

19

Steve Capaldi smiled
sympathetically
as Ella Ramirez
slumped in her chair after the red
On Air
light went off. It had been a hectic
few
days
for both of them
.
First,
Hardin had set fire to the monastery in a failed attempt to kill the Midnight Monster.
Rumors had abounded that the authorities had found more of the creatures' bodies but Ella, to her frustration, could not verify the reports.
Hardin’s reward had been reassignment to
a DEA case where he had
promptly
been involved in a
chaotic
warehouse
shootout
with drug lords
and a second fire.
Dazed and frightened
gang foot soldiers claimed a flying demon attacked them. Hardin, once again, had been in the thick of it and he
Ella
had been unable to
shoot a single worthwhile frame of footage.