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Salem, Oregon: Midnight
Mitch Niles walked slowly along the weathered sidewalk. Fog stirred in gentle wisps, teasing the night as it crept subtlety closer. Three blocks away, a thicker mist swept forward to claim the city until the morning sun melted it away.
He paused at the intersection. Even though the night was still and dead, he waited until the walk signal granted permission to cross. Halfway across the street, he placed his briefcase in his right hand and checked his watch. The Greyhound Bus was scheduled to arrive in less than an hour.
The amber glow of the streetlights dimmed, shrouded by the congealing fog. If Mitch believed in black magic, he’d have thought an evil entity loomed toward him, draped inside a swirling cape of misty vapor.
His weeklong stay in the city had been disappointing. Something evil was here, but he had been unable to pinpoint its source. His time to leave had come, but he feared he had outstayed his welcome.
He hated to report his failure to Kat and Lucian. Although this was his first assignment on a trial basis with the Kat Gaddis Agency, he didn’t see why they’d keep him on staff. Not after he had failed to produce results. Always a man who loved investigating paranormal activity with great success, Mitch hadn’t discovered any useful evidence to keep this particularly eerie case open.
The night air grew colder. Strong wind funneled through the street. As Mitch approached the bus stop, a beautiful young woman seated on the bench looked up and smiled. Surprised to see anyone outside in the depths of darkness, he stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. The last thing he ever expected after the bizarre murders was to find a young lady alone on a dark street after midnight.
Mitch motioned toward the bench. “You mind if I sit?”
“Not at all.” She moved her purse to make room. “Go ahead. Are you waiting for the bus, too?”
Mitch nodded.
“Kind of odd to be here during the witching hour, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile.
“Wrong Salem for witches, but the atmosphere crafts the mood.”
“Where are you headed?”
Mitch studied her attire. She wore a leather jacket with a black fleece hoodie and a short black skirt. Her fishnet stockings were stretched and torn in places. She had a lot of facial piercings. A tattoo of a black widow spread across her right cheek. Black lipstick and heavy mascara painted the threat that she wished to convey to the world, but her big brown eyes revealed softness no mask could hide. Within her gaze, he read deeper pain. Past turmoil haunted her. She might fool others with the façade, but not him.
Her pale skin and the black circles under her eyes reminded him of a corpse. He couldn’t tell if she wished to portray emo, goth, or punk. He didn’t know, and she probably didn’t care.
Mitch placed his briefcase on his lap. “I’m traveling back to Jersey.”
She smiled. “You’re a long way from home.”
“Yes, I am.” He nodded and offered his hand. “My name’s Mitch. You are?”
Staring cautiously at his hand, then to his eyes, she tilted her head with one brow cocked. She accepted his hand with a loose grip. “Sheba.”
“Where are you traveling?” he asked.
“I’m not. I’m waiting for some friends.”
“This late at night?”
“Yep,” Sheba said, sliding her hands into her jacket pockets. “So what brings you across country to this shithole?”
“I’m investigating the strange murders that took place last week.”
“Why? Local authorities haven’t figured out anything. You with the FBI or something?”
“Or something,” Mitch replied.
“Did you discover anything helpful?”
“No, I came up empty. With what has happened, why would you be outside in the dead of night?”
“Darkness doesn’t bother me.” She said as she lit a cigarette. “Few things in this world do.”
“You’re a brave soul.”
“Am I?” She laughed. “If the police listened to me, I could give them the information to solve the murders. But I’m pretty much an outcast.”
“You know what happened?”
She exhaled a long stream of smoke. “Yeah.”
“And the police won’t listen to you?”
“No, I’m a social misfit. They don’t like me, and they certainly don’t give a shit about me.”
“Why not?”
Sheba pursed her lips and stared at him for a long moment before turning her attention back to the street. She took another drag from the cigarette, tapped the ash, and crossed her legs. Turning to face him again, a solemn expression claimed her facial features. “Because this has happened before.”
Mitch stiffened. “When?”
“Several years ago.”
“I never found any reports of it.”
“You won’t. The police buried it.”
“Did they have any suspects?” he asked.
“At first they blamed me.”
“You? Why?”
“The girl murdered that night was my friend Gloria. Three of us girls were there when she died. A few months later, what we had seen haunted us so much that Jill committed suicide. She was afraid that what had killed Gloria would come for her, too. Beverly,” Sheba shook her head and cleared her throat. “Beverly never spoke again. She’s still locked in a padded cell at the mental institution. I visit but she never acknowledges my presence.”
“What happened?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Sheba flicked the cigarette butt to the street. Glowing ash exploded and faded to black. Folding her arms, she faced him. Her eyes narrowed. “Whom do you work for?” she asked.
Mitch opened his briefcase and handed her a business card.
“Kat Gaddis Agency?” she said. “Never heard of them. What do they do?”
“Let’s just say we investigate unusual circumstances, especially when murder is involved.”
“Paranormal shit?”
“No. Not exactly. I wouldn’t classify our agency quite like that.”
Sheba smiled. “Then you’ll never understand what’s behind this.”
“You believe in the paranormal?”
“With all that’s involved, you learn to accept it. If you don’t, you’ll die quickly.”
Mitch nodded. “So what happened to Gloria?”
Sheba looked away. She chewed her bottom lip as her mind carried her back in time. “We were in high school when it happened. What was meant to be a prank ended tragically.”
“What kind of prank?”
“Well, I guess you could say that it was more a dare than a prank,” she said. “Some boys in our chemistry lab dared us to go to the cemetery after dark. They said that we were too chicken to show up. It was obvious that all they wanted to do was scare the hell out of us. If it had been up to me, we wouldn’t have gone.”
“Then why did you?”
She sighed. “Gloria. She didn’t give us any other option. Being the tomboy in our group, she wasn’t about to back down from such a challenge. Instead, she got in Tom’s face and swore to him that we’d be there.”
Mitch shook his head. “Peer pressure’s such a bitch sometimes.”
“True. Tom and his friends laughed and told us they’d be at the front gate to witness our bravery. My gut told me differently. I knew they wouldn’t be there. They’d be hiding somewhere along the way to jump out and scare us. Boys get a kick out of that spineless crap.”
“I assume you were right?”
“Not quite, but almost,” Sheba said. “That night we took our flashlights and headed to the cemetery. The fog was so thick; all our lights did was reflect little yellow circles. We couldn’t see more than a couple feet ahead, so we turned off the flashlights. Hell, we knew our way there anyway.”
“What happened?”
She shook her head. Her hands trembled as she lit another cigarette. “When we got to the gate, the boys weren’t there. We didn’t hear any snickering in the shrubs surrounding the cemetery gate and that made Gloria furious.”
“I bet,” he said. “So why didn’t you just go home?”
Sheba took a deep breath as if the memories agitated her. “You’d have had to know Gloria. Her fury made her overstep her bounds many times.”
“She was a troublemaker?”
“Not intentionally.”
Mitch smiled. “How could she cause problems unintentionally?”
“Trouble sought her out, but she never tried to sidestep it. She dove headfirst into situations. Her actions always preceded her ability to think first.”
“I see,” Mitch said. “With poor visibility and them not being there, I don’t understand why she didn’t turn back. Didn’t she have any sense of fear?”
“Not at first,” she replied. “Later she did, but by then, it was too late.”
“Go on.”
“An old rickety manor stands in the center of the cemetery. The place should have been torn down years ago. And Gloria insisted that the boys were hiding there, so she trudged forward. We argued with her to come back, but she refused. Even though we didn’t want to go, we also couldn’t let her wander into the fog alone. Whether she wanted to accept it or not, she needed us.”
“Were the boys there?”
Sheba shook her head. “No.”
The cold air nipped at Mitch. Chills ran up his arms and down his spine.
As Sheba shared the grim details of those events, her eyes held a coldness that numbed any bravery a man possessed. Yet, Mitch listened with earnest because Kat and Lucian expected him to gather the necessary information to find out who or what was responsible for these murders. Even if he missed the bus, he had to know the specific details behind what had happened to Gloria that night. Her information might be the missing key they needed to solve the case and direct them to the real source before more people were gruesomely murdered.
“Midway across the cemetery,” Sheba said. “The thick clouds broke and the full moon shone down on the manor. The windows looked black. From our distance, we couldn’t see inside, but there was this sensation of something watching us from the other side of the glass. Gloria hesitated. She didn’t move forward or backwards. She looked scared, pale. I thought, actually I hoped, she’d leave. But she didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“On the ground was a torn flannel shirt soaked with sticky blood. It was one of the boy’s shirts. A few feet away lay a flashlight with its light still on. I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move.”
“What about Gloria?”
“The shirt pissed her off.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were. She accused them of killing a rabbit or some other small animal and soaking the shirt with blood to scare us. Whether or not they did that, I’m not certain. I know it scared the shit out of me.”
Mitch rubbed his arms against another wave of chills that pimpled his skin. The drifting fog smelled rancid. Paranoia sought to embrace him. He searched the dark corners of the buildings across the street, looking for shadows, for anyone or any creature watching them from an alley or storefront. Nothing presented itself, but he was still unable to shake his uneasiness.
Her eyes revealed that what she told with pure conviction was absolutely true. He doubted any actress had the ability to tell a fictitious account more convincingly. And if so, that person definitely deserved an Oscar on their mantel.
“Seeing the blood didn’t deter her?”
“No. For some damn reason she got brave. Too brave. Determined to call them out, she went to the back door to investigate. A deadbolt secured the door, but the knob was so rusted that had it been unlocked, you couldn’t have twisted it. She took her flashlight and looked through the windows. I thought she might bust one out, but then she discovered the cellar doors.”
“Were they locked?”
Sheba shrugged. “I’m not sure. The wooden doors were weathered and rotten. Painted in red were the words: KEEP OUT! Gloria stomped the boards until they caved inward. She walked down the earthen steps.”
Mitch frowned. “You let her go inside alone?”
“No, we followed. Safety in numbers, so to speak, but we should have grabbed her and carried her out.”
“Did you find the boys?”
She shook her head and swallowed hard. “No. We found twelve caskets arranged in a circle. Inside the circle was another casket. It was glossy and free of dust. Curiosity got the best of Gloria. She opened the casket lid.”
Sheba’s hands shook.
Her lower lip quivered.
Mitch gently patted her arm. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
She closed her eyes. Tears blackened by mascara trickled down her cheeks. When she reopened them, her expression was distant. “That’s just it. I don’t remember anything else except Gloria’s terrifying, pain-filled screams. I ran so fast that when I stopped I was at the cemetery gate. Beverly and Jill stood beside me. Their faces were shadowed with fear. We were scared and almost unable to breathe.”
“And Gloria?”
“We waited for her but she never came. Jill called 9-1-1 on her cellphone. The police arrived a few minutes later. They never found her body.”
Mitch’s back stiffened. “They didn’t find her?”
“No.”
“What did they say about the caskets?”
Sheba laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath. Her sudden hysteria alarmed him. After a minute or so, she captured her composure. “They swore they didn’t see any coffins. Just a barren dirt floor.”
“If they didn’t find her body, why’d they accuse you of her murder? Why even think a murder took place?”
She looked at the pavement. “They found her blood. Lots of it. But not her body.”
“That doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t have disappeared that quickly.”
“You wouldn’t think so. They asked us to go back down there, but we couldn’t. After an hour or so, they came out. We mentioned the coffins again and that pissed them off. We were taken to police headquarters and questioned. They showed us pictures of the cellar from all angles. There weren’t any caskets. Just a big pool of blood in the center of the dirt.”
“Didn’t they question the boys since they had asked you to go there?”
“How could they? Their parents reported them missing. They’ve never been seen or heard from again.”
Mitch silently thought through the information. “What about the bloody shirt?”
“DNA matched Tom’s. Other than that, nothing else was found. Not any evidence that his three friends were ever there, either.”
“But the murders last week. Both people were killed rather strangely.”
Sheba’s dark eyes narrowed. Her jaw tightened. “Yes.”
“Their gutted bodies were displayed in ritual-like arrangements.”
“That’s how the news reported it.”
“Do you think these murders are somehow connected to Gloria’s and Tom’s?”
“That’s a far stretch since their bodies were never found.”
Mitch glanced at his watch, and then he looked around nervously. “Could you point me in the direction of that cemetery? I’d like to scout around and see if there’s anything unusual going on.”
“You’ll miss your bus.”
“I can take the next one.”
She stood and adjusted her skirt. When her eyes met his, she smiled. “I can walk you to the gate, but I won’t go any farther than that.”
“Do you think you can handle going there again?”
She pursed her lips. “Eventually, we have to face our fears, don’t we? I will go to the gate. No farther.”
“That’s kind of you, but what about your friends?”
She shrugged. “Looks like they’re not going to show up.”
Mitch took his cellphone and nodded. “Thanks. I need to touch base with my boss and inform her that I will take a later bus. Hell, if any new evidence is found, I may be staying another day.”
Sheba turned and stood at the edge of the sidewalk while he placed his call. The area was void of life except for them. No headlights appeared from either direction on the street. No vagrants. No animal sounds.
Mitch kept his message brief and faint.
When he stepped beside her, she said, “Did you reach her?”
He shook his head. “Damn voice mail.”
“At least you got a signal. Usually you can’t get one after the fog rolls in.”
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She gave a quick nod, motioning to her right, and then turned and pulled her hoodie over her head. “Follow me.”
***
New Jersey
Kat’s cellphone vibrated on the nightstand. Rubbing sleep from her eyes with one hand, she patted for the cellular with the other. Mitch’s message had recorded to voice mail before she intercepted. She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.
Lucian stood at the window in his jogging clothes, staring into the night. He seldom slept anymore. Without glancing her direction, he asked, “Who’d be calling at this hour?”
“Mitch,” she replied. “Give me a second. I’m listening to his message.”
“Maybe he found something that will help solve those murders.”
Kat straightened a five-by-eight picture frame on the nightstand. The photo was of her and Lucian with the twins, Paul and Paula, they had rescued from Typhis’ hidden laboratory. They got visitation with them one weekend per month as they fought with social services to adopt them.
She clicked off her cell. “Mitch is staying another night in Salem.”
“He discovered something?”
“I think so. A girl he met gave him detailed information that the police kept out of the press and to themselves. He’s going to check it out.”
“Perhaps I had underestimated him during his interview,” Lucian said.
“You doubted him?”
“He wasn’t quite convincing enough.”
“About his psychic power?”
“Yeah.”
Kat shrugged. “Kyle vouched for him, and Kyle has abilities that haven’t failed us in the past. He can do things most scientists would dismiss as impossible.”
“I know. That’s why I sent Mitch to investigate this case first. Mainly I want to see what he can uncover without being near Kyle. If he functions well with his psychic hunches, Mitch might prove to be a nice addition to the agency after all.”
“It never hurts to work with people that are . . . a bit different,” she said with a teasing smile.
Lucian left the window, sat on the edge of the bed, and put on his running shoes. “The information Mitch gathers might be what we need to find the killers.”
Kat placed her hand on his shoulder. “What bothers you about these murders? They occurred so far away.”
“I’m not exactly certain what troubles me the most, but the brutality the victims suffered was extreme. They were eviscerated and their bodies were left on display in a sadistic manner. Maybe it’s to throw people off their trail, but it takes a calloused individual to do something like that. One report indicated animal bites, but I fear it might be something far worse.”
“Like what?”
“For one thing, their vital organs were removed. Something bigger is at stake here.”
“Nothing like GenTech or TransGenCorp, I hope?”
Lucian offered a slight shrug. “Science never sleeps. Conspiracies never fade.”
“I hoped we could stop the majority of these laboratory experimentations.”
“Shut down one, but there’s still a dozen others. Perhaps more.”
“You think so?”
Lucian nodded. “You remember Typhis’ sons?”
“Yes.”
“They were different than the previous clones I’ve seen. Much stronger. Had they been seasoned with real life experience and better trained, I couldn’t have stopped them. Luckily, they had no idea how powerful they really were.”
“You think the murders in Salem are connected?”
“Yes. Because someone is harvesting organs.”
“Why would you think that?”
“They’re building something or perhaps they’re trying to keep someone or something alive.”
Kat’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Lucian shrugged. “Won’t know until we see firsthand. But my gut tells me we’re dealing with something that isn’t exactly human. Typhis’ sons looked almost human and with their ears hidden, they passed easily among others without notice.”
He leaned over and kissed her. She placed her hands on his cheeks.
“You’re burning up, Lucian,” Kat said. “You have a fever.”
“No, I’m fine.”
Kat slipped out of bed and put her hand on his forehead. “No, you’re sick. You’re covered with sweat.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Did you take your enhancers?”
Lucian nodded and tapped his watch. “Right on schedule.”
Kat hugged him. “Maybe you should take a cold shower to drop your core temperature.”
“I’m going for a jog. Be back in a bit.”
“A jog? At this hour?”
He smiled. “The cool night air will do me good. You go back to sleep. I won’t be long.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to run with a fever.”
“Kat, you know my metabolism is high. My normal temperature isn’t what the medical profession considers normal.”
“Yes, but you’ve never flushed with sweats, either.”
“I’m okay. You worry over me like a mother does a child.”
Kat smiled. “I suppose you’re right. It’s hard for me to be dependent on someone else. After I allowed myself to open up to you, I fear what we have will sift through my fingers like sand.”
“Think of me like the grit that gets caught beneath your fingernails. I’m much harder to get rid of than sand.”
“You know what I mean.”
Lucian placed his hand to her cheek and smiled. “I understand, but I’m not Tyler. Losses come in life. We can’t allow bereavement to keep us from moving forward and loving again.”
He kissed her.
“I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Lucian smiled. “Get some sleep. If Mitch has found helpful information, we’ll be flying to Salem.”
Kat lay back on the bed. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and turned off the lamp. Quietly, he left her to dream while he dealt with a growing nightmare of his own.