Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (40 page)

A seventh girl, Amy Mays,
who had
disappeared
a day earlier
, mysteriously reappeared in the hospital, along with word that Hardin had
finally
killed the Midnight Monster.
Its dismembered body was
lying
somewhere beneath the dark waters of the bay
.
Capaldi
removed his headphones and watched
Ella
walk in his direction. Below her neat
gray skirt and jacket, she wore a pair of fuzzy house slippers, less
chic than the black heels wardrobe offered her but infinitely more comfortable
.

“Hardin is out of town,” she began with no preamble.

“On a well
-deserved vacation, I hear. After all, he did kill the Midnight Monster.”

“That Dr. Alvarez is missing again as well. You don’t think…” Her eyes twinkled
wistfully
.

Capaldi sighed.
“Give the guy a break. If she is with him, he deserves a little R and R with some female companionship. He’s been through a lot.”

“Oh, I know he killed the Monster. He’s a damn hero
but we don’t have an interview or a
single
foot of good
video to air. We’re rehashing what all the other stations are saying and showing.”

Capaldi lowered his voice
and looked around to make certain no one could overhear him.
“We’ve st
ill got copies of the
video
of the Alvarez woman and Hardin’s attempt to capture the creature.”

Ella
shook her head. “It’s too
shaky
. Not enough light.
Besides, even i
f we
air
it, the Feds with just confiscate it too.
”

“It’s something at least,” Capaldi replied testily.
Ella’s
remark had sounded like a rebuke on his video
technique.
He had a steady hand and the Sony PMW-320K was a top of the line camcorder. With his
12,000-dollar
budget, it was the best he could afford. If the video was shaky, it was because the damn thing took a nosedive at him.

Ella
looked at him and smiled. “I’m not blaming you. You’re the best in the business.”

This elicited a smile from Capaldi.

“No,”
Ella
continued. “We’ll save it for a special I want to put together
when things die down. The Feds won’t be up our ass then.”

“So what’s next? Follow Hardin to his vacation love nest?”

Ella
chuckled at Capaldi’s suggestion. “No. When he comes back to town, I’m going to hound him until he talks to me, on camera. Maybe Dr. Alvarez too. She seems to
come and go like some damn Brazilian ninja or something.”

“Damn fine looking ninja,” Capaldi replied
.

“Keep it in your pants, Steve,” she chided. “
We’ll keep an eye on Hardin. My gut tells me this isn’t over yet.
There’s still a lot of activity at the Homeland Security offices. It’s all tied in to
the Midnight Monster somehow.”

She glanced up at the bank of video monitors and
Weatherman
Guy
Vicenza
standing in front of his green screen displaying a
satellite image
of the
metro area.
Her eyes followed the Bay Road to the
smudge of the
ruins of the monastery. Even seen
from 100 miles up, the place looked evil
.

20

Twice, while Joria and I enjoyed long evening walks in the woods, I felt as if someone was following us but I saw nothing, though one time I thought I saw a flash of gray in the tops of the trees.
This
could have been my
overactive
imagination. Strange noises in the night further enhanced my sense of
our
being observ
ed
. It could have been nosy neighbors, game wardens, or even the clan from
Deliverance
for all I knew, but I began to sleep with my .45
tucked
under
my
pillow.
Joria noticed but said nothing. I believe she thought
the Feds were watching us.

On
our
last
night
,
I
took a walk alone while Joria cleared the dishes. I
was startled
when I turned a bend in a path and came upon
the body of
a
dead deer, its throat slashed. I stood and scanned the woods for half an hour before convincing myself it had been the handiwork of a bear frightened off before
it
could
devour
its
kill. I had seen sign of bears earlier in the week
but had not mentioned it to Joria
.
Jaguars in the jungle
might not
frighten her,
but I figured the idea of a 1200
-
pound bear somewhere in the woods might do the trick.
Still, something deep down inside
me
screamed trouble.
I did
n’t
allow my
nervousness to
turn
me back. I plunged deeper into the
woods, drawn by some primitive urge to prove myself. The shadows could not harm me and that was all that was out there
.

I walked along the path, stopping often to listen. I was no woodsman, but it seemed to me that the woods were unnaturally still.
From
the cabin
porch,
I could hear owls, night birds, coyote calls,
possums
– the usual nocturnal wildlife. Now
,
I heard nothing. Fearing that perhaps the bear
might be lurking
nearby
, I pulled out my .45 and
continued
more carefully. The moon was full but a light wind pushed ban
k
s of clouds
scurrying
across the night sky.
I walked first in light, and then in darkness.

The first sign
that
I was not alone was the cracking of a tree branch. In the
stillness,
it sounded like a shotgun blast and affected me just as much as one. I stopped and listened but there was no reoccurrence. I knew even a light wind could snap rotten branches, so I relaxed. Then the tops of the trees began to sway but I felt no wind on the ground.
I heard a thud and pine needles rustling, followed by the sound of wings.
An owl catching a field mouse
? I tried to rein in my apprehension.
After all, I had heard or seen nothing that I could not explain as normal night activity.

At the lake, I skipped a few stones on
its
placid
dark
waters, watching the ripples expand into the darkness.
Behind
me,
I heard the sound of wood snapping. I turned just in time to see a tall pine tree falling toward me. I raced to
one
side, barely avoiding
entanglement in
the spreading tree branches.
The tree
crashed
with a thud and a splash
as the top landed in the lake
. My heart
raced
as I faced the woods with my .45
, calculating
the odds that a weakened tree would fall just as I stood beneath it.
I figured
they were
not very high. Still, I was ready to put it down to providence, when I saw a familiar shadow soar between
treetops
.
I lost control.

“Come and get me you lousy bastard!” I yelled
repeatedly
as I fired my .45 into the
treetops
. When I emptied the clip, I stood there shaking, watching the woods,
waiting for an attack that did not come.
Had I seen something?
What could I have seen? The
Chupacabra
was dead,
fish food in the bay.
I replaced my .45 and rubbed my hands trying to st
ill
the
ir
trembling.

I had played hunches all my life. I played one now.
Something
or
someone
was watching me
and it wasn’t the Feds
. I could feel eyes
staring at me from the darkness
.
I felt like a mouse
just
before
a
horned owl swoops down to pluck it from the ground.
The woods no longer felt safe.
I
remembered Joria was alone and raced
to the cabin
. She
was waiting at the door
when I burst
from the woods
, breathing heavily from my run. She
had heard the shots
and
stared at me with concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong?
” she shouted as I collapsed on the porch.

I tried to speak
, gasping as my tortured lungs tried to pull in enough air to still my heart
. “I don’t know. I, I felt like something was out there in the woods with me
, watching
me
.”

She
clutched her chest and
smiled. “The bear you tried to hide from me?”

I shook my head. “No, something…bigger.”

Her eyes grew large as she guessed my meaning. She
kneeled beside me
, grasped my trembling hands in hers.
“You’re wrong. It’s dead. You killed it. It was just an animal
you disturbed
.”

I took a deep breath to calm myself.
She was right. The
Chupacabra
was dead. I had blown it to pieces
,
which were now
lying in three fa
thoms of bay water
, food for the fishes
.
But my gut wouldn’t relax. I had learned to follow my instincts.

“I’ve got to go back to the city.”

She didn’t protest, only nodded.
“Tonight?”

I
rose to my knees and
took her in my arms
,
almost smother
ing
her with my embrace
, drawing
comfort
and strength
from her warm body.
It amazed me how quickly my doubts about her had vanished during our
few days
in the woods.
I needed her.
I was tired of being alone. As we kissed,
I felt a stirring in my groin and realized I wanted her.

“No. In the morning.”

She smiled as I led her to the bedroom.

* * * *

Upon
our
return to
the city, I
immediately
noticed the change in the people. They were already back to their same old ‘me first’ attitudes, walking about lost in their own petty problems, oblivious to the city around them. The ‘Midnight Monster’ was gone, dead. The city was safe
once more
for them to be themselves
.
Long live the mundane.

As
we
walked up
the stairs
to my
condominium
, I met one of my neighbors in the hall
, Joe Calloway
, a lawyer
.
He was not my favorite neighbor
. He was
brash, opinionated and a
perpetual
busybody.
He did
n’t
look happy.

“Hardin,” he said
without preamble
. “Where have you been?”

I looked at him coldly, not caring for his
harsh
tone. “In the woods. Why?”

“There’s been a horr
endous odor
coming from your apartment
for days
. We were debating calling the police. We thought maybe you were dead or something.”

“No, alive and kicking
,
”
I replied, b
ut
Calloway’s
words had sent a sliver of ice through my heart, which began pounding. I pulled
out
my .45.
I looked at Joria; then at him.
“You’d better get back,” I cautioned.
I tried not to smile as his face turned pale
and he stumbled
backwards
into the stair banister
.
I fumbled with my key
s
in my nervousness
.
As I neared the door,
I c
aught a whiff of
the odor
that had ruffled Calloway’s feathers
.
It smelled of death. I turned the key and opened the door, knowing, or at least suspecting what I would find
inside
.