The phone rang, startling him enough that he slipped off the couch, falling hard to the floor. He cursed the world under his breath and got the phone, his eyes going wide as he saw the clock above the sink. How time flies when you’re depressed and drunk.
“Hello?”
“Joe, it’s Andy. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah.” Joe faked a yawn. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve had a serious problem at the Inn. You better get down there.”
“What about Rita?”
“She’s out on patrol. Down near Canyon.”
“What happened?”
Andy hesitated a moment, reviewing the details of the hysterical call he’d received from the Inn’s manager. “I don’t really know, but it sounds bad.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Joe set the phone down and stood still, looking at his reflection in the window over the sink. He wasn’t ready to answer a call, not like this. Nor did he want to go back to the Inn for some new horror. Had someone been turned into a piece of furniture or melted like ice? Joe leaned into the mirror and turned his face in a slow circle, eyeing the wrinkles and purple bags beneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept well in so long. When he did manage to fall asleep early, he’d wake up screaming—often his son’s name. He put some coffee grounds in the pot and went into his bedroom to get his uniform back on, wondering why he ever took it off. He wore the damn thing every day and often at night. Getting a full body tattoo of beige and dark green with his name etched over his breast might actually save time. A little grotesque with his sagging features, but doable.
Ten minutes passed and Joe stood with both hands on the kitchen counter, fully dressed, watching the last drops of coffee fall into the pot. Trying to jolt his body into action, he hopped around the kitchen on one foot, shaking his head violently from side to side. Every few seconds he took a moment to slap himself hard on the cheek; doing anything and everything to wake himself up for the ten minute drive to Old Faithful. Joe took his long metal thermos and filled it to the brim with black coffee, taking a tiny sip off the top.
“Damn it to hell!” Joe kicked the counter as the coffee burned his tongue, singeing his taste-buds.
Joe headed out the door, not bothering to lock up. Who the hell would steal from him way the hell out here and besides, what could they possibly take? He got behind the wheel of his truck and started her up, taking a moment to collect himself. He gripped the steering wheel and looked beyond it to the small dirt driveway that led up to the highway. Even with his brights on the night looked too dark, weighing down on him like a heavy blanket. But Joe couldn’t linger any longer. They were expecting him. He drove up the hill and turned onto the highway. He drove slow, concentrating on the road while looking down at his speedometer every half mile. He’d look up and have some coffee, even though it felt terrible on his stomach, but then he’d hear the bumps beneath his tires. A quick swerve and he was back on track, and then a few minutes later there’d be more bumps. Joe shook his head and double-checked his speed, looking up to see a tree dead center in his headlights.
“Shit!” Joe yelled out as he turned hard right, moving back onto the road without incident. “Holy shit,” he said in between each forced breath, his heart beating in his ears.
The drive had been easier from then on, sobering him up better than the entire thermos of coffee ever could. It might have worked a little too well. Joe took long, slow breaths to calm his ferocious heart, fearing he might have a heart attack. His body took on a state of calm normality just as he was pulling into the parking lot, taking the space beside Andy’s truck outside the main entrance. He turned off the engine and leaned forward, looking up at the Inn. Hadn’t he just been here?
“I don’t know,” the manager told Andy, her voice jittery. “I told you, I just stepped out for five minutes. I didn’t hear a thing.” Gretchen was shivering, overcome with guilt.
“Where did you go?” Joe asked as he approached the front desk.
“There was no one here, so I went out front and had a cigarette.”
“Did you see anyone enter or leave the Inn?”
“No, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Joe raised his left eyebrow, wondering what the hell had been so urgent he’d rushed down here and almost hit a tree for. “What made you call us?”
Gretchen walked briskly toward the hall, her hands cupping her elbows in an attempt to keep it all together. Her pace slowed as she passed the first room, inching toward a door on her left while pointing to the floor. “I saw that on my way to the bathroom.”
Joe knelt down, gripping the wall so as not to lose his balance and plant his knee dead center into the small pool of blood. It looked so black in the dim lighting of the hallway. Joe looked up at the swaying bulb overhead, the thick frosted glass cover blocking most of the light. Keeping it dim might do wonders for creating the rustic and relaxing mood, but it was a bitch when it came to investigations.
“Can those be turned up?” Joe pointed skyward.
“No, this whole place is pretty dark.” Gretchen was apologetic, giving him her front desk smile with a slight shake of the head that told all those annoying tourists with a problem that she really did sympathize, but darn it, there was nothing she could do.
“Okay, thank you.” Joe pulled himself up by gripping the doorframe. “Why don’t you wait by the front desk in case we have any questions?”
Gretchen nodded and took off, thankful to be clear of that blood. It could be from a wounded mouse for all she knew and she didn’t care. She’d discovered it, called the authorities, and passed the buck to the appropriate person. As far as she was concerned, this was no longer her business.
“Not really sure if I want to open this,” Joe told Andy as he pulled his long metal flashlight, eager to have as much light as possible. He flipped it on and tapped the butt of the flashlight to the door. “Hello?”
“You think someone is in there?” Andy raised his eyebrows, contemplating what could be waiting for them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Joe gripped the knob and jiggled it back and forth, looking at Andy with shock.
“Gretchen!” Joe yelled down the hall. “Can you please join us with the key to this room?” Joe let go of the knob and took a step back, running a thought through his head.
“Here you are.”
“Hold on a second.” Joe took the key from her and pointed it to the door. “When you found this blood, did you enter the room?”
“No, the door was locked.” Gretchen spoke quickly, fearing this might be leading to some kind of accusation against her.
“You weren’t the one to lock it? Does anyone else have a key?”
“No, at the end of each day the housekeeping staff return their master keys and they’re all hanging on the hook.”
“Okay, thank you.” Joe waited before Gretchen was out of view before speaking. “I’m very curious to see what’s behind this door.” Joe unsnapped his service revolver and pulled it from the holster, one of the few times he’d ever pulled his weapon on duty. “Stand back and keep me covered.” Joe looked Andy in the eyes and made sure he understood the severity of his request. Once Andy had pulled his revolver and taken a few steps back, Joe slid the key into the lock and turned the knob.
The room was dark. Joe reached in and felt along the wall, flipping on the lights. He lowered his weapon, searching the room for any sign of foul play, but it looked like an ordinary room. Other than the small pool of blood at the base of the door and a slightly open window, nothing seemed to be out of place.
“I think whatever happened, we missed it.” Joe slid his revolver back into his holster with a breath of relief. “Still, very strange.”
“What left the blood then?” Andy asked as he entered the room, holstering his weapon.
“Maybe a bird or something flew in here.” Joe searched the room, knowing the story didn’t work. “Couldn’t have been anything too big. The window’s only open three or four inches. Plus there’s no blood on the windowsill.” Joe looked at the floor beneath the window, seeing three drops of blood, each no bigger than a quarter. “What the hell is this?” Joe reached down and picked up something small, turning to show Andy. “This is someone’s tooth…and here’s another.” Joe picked it up, setting them in his palm.
“What happened here?”
Joe knelt down and ran his hand along some faint scratches on the floor, running from the window to the door. Joe withdrew his hand as he ran his fingers over a fingernail imbedded in the floor, blood and tissue dangling from it like thin strands of hair. Joe had seen enough. He stood and left the room, turning in the hall to look at the scene from a distance, running through the scenario in his mind.
“It looks to me like someone was trying to get out the window when someone grabbed them, knocked them to the floor, and then pulled them toward the door.” Joe cleared up the image with the facts at hand. “The teeth could have been knocked out from the fall and the scratches from when they were pulled.”
“But then where are they? And why would someone drag them along the floor like that?”
“And why was the door locked from the inside when the window isn’t open enough for someone to escape?”
“Should we call Dr. Cartman out?”
“What for? There’s no one here to treat. That’s the problem, where’s the body?” Joe held out his hands in wonderment. “Wait.”
Joe approached the wall, standing close enough for his nose to touch. He aimed his flashlight at the wall as he brought up his hand and ran an index finger over a small hole. There were two more right beside it. A few inches down the hall were more holes, twelve in clusters of three. He followed them all the way to the stairwell, where they went up the wall to the ceiling and then disappeared.
“Looks like someone might have gone a little smack happy with the old hammer and nail.” Andy puzzled over all the little holes.
Joe sniffed the wall and withdrew, covering his nose. It was that same awful stench he’d gotten from the fireman’s closet and Doug’s watch; the same holes he’d seen in the closet. The scene changed in his mind, playing out like a movie without actors. He saw something running along the wall, chasing someone inside the room, only he didn’t know how the two images connected. He would have thought a person would instantly lock the door behind him if being chased, but then how did it get in?
“You know something, don’t you?”
“To be honest, I’m completely dumbfounded. But there is no doubt in my mind that all these events are connected. The missing employees, the death earlier today and this little issue right here.” Joe paced in the hall, turning in small circles while shaking his head. He motioned toward the room. “I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t think we’re dealing with a human or some kind of super virus. I think it’s some kind of creature.”
“What kind of creature could do all this?”
“One we’ve never seen before.”
Joe took off down the hall, not bothering to wait for Andy to wrap his mind around what he’d laid out for him. Frankly he didn’t care if Andy believed him or not. It was the only thing that made a shred of sense.
“I need you to do a headcount of all your employees tomorrow morning, bright and early before anyone has a chance to get up and leave. I want an accurate list of who’s here and who’s missing. Can you do that for me, Gretchen?”
“You want me to wake everyone up?”
“Can you do that for me or not?” Joe raised his voice, placing both hands on the counter.
“Okay, tomorrow morning?”
Joe nodded with a smile, but his eyes were dead serious. “You’re to inform your staff, as well as any remaining guests, that the rangers have issued a six o’clock curfew. No one is to be out after nightfall or their contracts will be terminated. Do you understand?”
Gretchen nodded, worried about the severity of such an order.
“Pass it along to the food and beverage manager and so on. Also, do us all a favor and mop up that blood.” Joe slapped the counter and headed out the door.
“What are you going to do?” Andy came running after him, slipping his flashlight back into his belt.
“The fireman that died today, he fell in some hole off the cabin loop trail right?”
“Yes.”
Joe thought for a moment, running through the ever growing list. “Doug and Rowena disappeared a few miles south, same with that other fireman.” Joe nodded, knowing full well what he needed to do next. “Tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun begins to rise, you’re going to meet me right back here.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going out there and I’m going into that goddamn hole.”
28
J
oe made an attempt to sleep, but it had been pointless. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with too many thoughts swirling through his mind to sort them out. He saw Andy’s face before he’d driven off and couldn’t help but smile. The old man wore his expressions on his sleeve and tonight he’d been scared shitless. Andy had pleaded with him, begging him to call in some authorities, professionals.
“Have you seen the monster hunters in the phone book?” Joe stood beside his truck, holding open the door. “There’s no one to help us. This is our park, Andy. Our responsibility. We owe it to the victims to stop their killer.” Joe got behind the wheel and shut the door, rolling down the window. “Look, have Gretchen clean that blood up before someone sees it and freaks out. But be quick. You still need to head home and get some rest.”
“Yeah, okay.” Andy turned and climbed the stairs, giving Joe a single wave from the top.
“Be here,” Joe yelled from the window as he backed out of the parking space. “I need you with me on this.” Joe lingered a moment, keeping solid eye contact with Andy despite the distance of fifteen feet, but he was close enough to see Andy agreed with him despite the fear in his heart.
Joe drove home, his mind completely sober, taking the dark highway a little more cautiously than when he’d headed out earlier that night. He figured that was the key to sobering up. Not a large cup of coffee, but a grotesque murder scene. The cold air was refreshing, zipping through his open window to run across his face. The smell of the trees calmed his nerves, burning in the distance. A few minutes later he turned off the main highway to the dirt road that led to his front porch. A small shack really, just a one-bedroom house made of old wood, the paint beginning to peel, it was run down and old, but it was home. Joe parked and went up the three porch stairs, turning the knob without use of a key and headed straight for bed. He kicked off his shoes and plopped down, lying in the center wearing his full uniform. What was the point of taking it off when he planned to be back in the woods within a few hours? But sleep didn’t come. Instead he lay there, counting the hours as they passed until the hint of morning sun began to spill through the blinds.