Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (9 page)

“Tuesday
afternoon
,
two
o’clock,” he said slowly, judging my reaction to his news.

His answer hit me like a punch in the gut.
I had been out only
half
an hour or so. “I
was
wound
ed less than
an
hour ago
,” I said incredulously
.
“
How the hell could it be infected
this soon
?”

He
stared
at me as if
he thought I was
lying.
I returned his gaze as
finally managed to sit
up. The nausea sent me reeling but I fought back and
slowly
got it under control.
I eyed the needle he h
eld
in his hand
for the IV fluids
.

“You try to shove that thing in me and I’ll ram it up your ass,
”
I growled.

“You need fluids,
” he countered, “
stitches, antibiotics
, blood
. You’re a very sick man,” he argued.

He was probably right, but I needed
some
answers first.
I grabbed my bloody shirt and examined the holes in the back. The blood was still damp so the EMT had not been lying.
Gingerly, I put on my shirt, biting down on my lip as a sharp pain shot through my shoulder. Seeing my discomfort, the EMT made a motion to help me but
he stopped when he saw the fierce look I shot him.
I
ignored hi
s protests
and
crawled out of the ambulance, holding onto the doors until my legs would support my weight
,
and
sought out Lew. He was
standing
in front of the church speaking with a uniform. He saw me and rushed over.

“What the hell are you doing, Tack? You need to be in the hospital.”

I shook my head and another wave of nausea swept over me.
“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He eyed me suspiciously. “I came back to find you lying on the floor out cold. Your forehead was on fire. You looked like you were dying.”

I touched my forehead. It was hot
, burning up
with fever
. “I
feel
like I
’
m
dying,” I snapped. “What the hell’s
going on with the case
?
”

He shook his head slowly
and pointed to the back of the ambulance
. “For God’s sake,
Tack,
go with the
nice
man to the hospital and let them sew you up. Get some sleep. I’ll drop by as soon as Munson finishes up.”

I nodded.
I
did
n’
t
have the energy to protest.
I
was
bone weary and defeated.
He made sense.
I could do nothing more there.
“We let him get away, partner
,
”
I said grimly.

He squared his jaw
and looked at me
as if I had accus
ed
him
of incompetence
. “The only wa
y
out was
through
the door we ca
me
in. There were no footprints but ours. If he gave us the slip, then the bastard had to fly out of there.”

I remembered my words from the night before and sighed. “We’re both punch drunk
, partner
.
Nobody flies but angels and he’s no angel.
”

I let the EMT coax me back into the ambulance, but not before
bearing mute witness to the
gruesome procession as
officers brought out
the remains of the three
no longer missing
girls and
unceremoniously
loaded
them
into a black county morgue van.
I spotted two news vans parked across the street
, aerials up and cameras rolling, filming the transfer for the evening news
and silently cursed them their lack of civility
.
I had known
in my gut all along
the
three girls
were
dead
,
bu
t seeing the proof loaded like so much cargo
and treated like
a headline
hit me hard
and cold
deep inside.
When
you
’re
searching for
a
missing
person
, you always hold out hope, no matter how slim, that they are still alive. You work fast, push the limits and forgo sleep. Now, in the event of
the next
victim, that impetus
will not
be there. The case will take on the slow methodical pace of a murder investigation.
I
clenched my
fist until my shoulder throbbed.
I vowed
silently
to find their killer.
He left few clues but h
e had
made
one
glaring error
. He had made it personal.

****

The rest of the day and most of the night were a blur of
vague
images – ER nurses, IV bottles, suturing needles, and bright white
florescent
lights.
The next morning I awoke
floating
in
a
sedative
haze, groggy and confused. My shoulder
itched beneath a thick
bandage and
gauze pads
covered
my forehead and chin
. I
did not
feel feverish, but then again I
did
n’t
feel much of anything. An IV
drip
line
disappeared beneath a gauze bandage around
my left arm. I tried to rise but found I was strapped
down
. I felt claustrophobic.
I had never liked hospitals
very much
and liked them even less as a patient.

“Nurse!” I yelled as loudly as I could
, which exited my dry throat as more a croak than a demand for attention
.

A male nurse walked in scowling.
His name badge read ‘Robert Trask, R.N’.
“Mr. Hardin, please do not yell. We have other patients on this floor in much worse shape than you.”

“Good,
” I barked. “G
et this strap off of me and let me up and we’ll all be happier.”

He stood with hands on hips leaning over me
as if
he was chiding
a
petulant
child in
its
crib
. “You need your rest.”

I spoke quietly
, biting back on my anger
. “
Bob, i
f you don’t undo these straps, I’m going to rip out your throat and crap down it.”

He backed up
step or two
,
aghast
at my threat, and
looked at me a moment
as if considering my capability of carrying out my threat
. Finally, he
s
ighed.
“Very well.”

He loosened the straps and helped me
to
sit
up
on the edge of the bed. My shoulder throbbed
and, though my arm was stiff,
I could move
it
. I just
hope
I did
n’t
have to beat anyone to the draw. I held out the IV
tube attached to my arm
. “What about this?”

The bottle was almost
empty
, so he disconnected it and removed the butterfly
needle
from my arm
, getting, I believe, a touch of satisfaction as
he ripped
out a patch of hairs
with the tape
. I winced but said nothing, allowing him his
pound of flesh
.

“When can I leave?”

He regained a little of his composure.
“When Doctor Liles says you can.
Your shoulder wound was deep.
It required eighteen stitches.
It was also badly infected.
You’ll need a series of antibiotics.”

“What did he use on me, anyway? It felt like a machete.”

The nurse
cocked his head to one side and
looked at me oddly. “
He?
It wasn’t a knife wound. It looked more like an animal wound, two deep parallel claw marks. You don’t know what attacked you?”

I looked at him s
lack-jawed. “An animal
wound
?” I questioned
with disbelief
.

He nodded. “
That’s
what it looked like
to me
and I’ve seen many animal wounds
. There was even some organic matter
embedded
in the wound
, which
caused the infection.
” He wrinkled his brow. “
It resembled
gray
fish scales.”

My head
reeled
as the room spun
like a Tilt-A-Whirl
.
Those few words, gray fish scales,
were as foreboding as
a
haunted house in a thunderstorm.
A sudden chill coursed through m
e
. I shivered
and h
e
mistook it for the fever.

“The fever will break if you continue your
regimen of
antibiotics and
get some
rest
,” he chided
.
“
No
heavy lifting.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll
have
my partner toss the drunks in
to
the back of the
squad
car
for me
.”

My
banal
attempt at humor went over his head
. I
stood, wobbly at first
, but within fifteen minutes, I was dressed
.
Forensics had picked up m
y bloody
,
ripped shirt
and
my suit coat
had
taken
them
to the lab as evidence.
The nurse brought me a gray
surgical
scrub shirt. I would win no fashion awards with my
dirty
brown
slacks
and a gray shirt, but at least it got me out of the hospital. After a short battle concerning a wheel chair, which I promptly lost, I was sitting in the waiting room
a
waiting
rescue by
Lew. He arrived a short time later, which translated to hours in ER waiting room
time
.

“You look like shit,” he
offered
as a greeting
as we walked to
his SUV
.

“Gee thanks,
partner,
nice of you to notice.
I feel like shit, too. What do we know?”

“No fingerprints, no footprints we can use, no fiber evidence – nothing. The girls … they all were probably killed at the scene of the crimes according to forensics.” He paused. “Damn it, Tack, their throats were all slashed
to hell and back
and their bodies were
almost entirely
drained of blood. With the church
angle
and all, do you think we’ve got some kind of religious nut making sacrifices?”

I shook
my
head
, which brought on a
repeat
bout of dizziness
. “No blood on the altar and no religious artifacts around.
He
chose the church for convenience rather than anything else.” I was guessing but I felt strongly about
my hunch
. “I think we’ve got a
wan
nabe
vampire on the loose.”
It was an idea I had been tossing around
in my feverish brain
all morning. Maybe the drugs had something to do with my mind wandering
so far
out to left field, but nothing else seemed to make sense
to me
.