Crimson Falls (The Depravity Chronicles) (12 page)

“Now it wants us
to be here?” Amy asked, surprise on her face.

“No, I think
this is the result of a spell,” Matthew replied.

“I should have
known that,” Amy said, frustrated with herself.

“It’s not like
you’ve done this before,” he laughed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“And I suppose
you’ve done this?” she asked.

“I’ve been down
this road a few times,” he replied quietly.

“Well that’s a
good thing,” she said. “At least we’re not walking into this completely
unprepared. So what now, Indie?” She let out a small laugh, feeling a little
more comfortable. 

“We see what’s
on the other side,” he said, knowing full well the multiple meanings of his
statement.

* * * * * *

4

Sam and Lisa
arrived at the station just as Pizza Hut was delivering the seven large pizzas.

 “What the
hell?” Sam bitched as he watched the teenager stumbling toward the doors with
the food.

“I imagine Anna
is trying to make sure everything is running smoothly and that people eat as
they are able,” Lisa said soothingly.

“I suppose,” he
said. He often felt grateful that he had left the bureau, but sometimes being
in a small town and in a small precinct was foreign to him. In his previous
life in a big Crimson Falls, these kinds of things were taken care of by people
who weren’t in charge. They had more important things to worry about. The
sheriff would not have even though about such things, let alone give orders to
someone to get food. In his slight distaste for limited budgets and small town
politics, he felt a bit more respect for Anna Blackwood.

“She must have
to deal with such bullshit,” he said to his wife.

“I can only
imagine,” Lisa agreed. They climbed out of the car and walked toward the doors.
The teenager returned to his car and hurriedly carried four two-liter bottles
of soda back toward them.

“Can I help
you?” Sam offered.

“I got it,
thanks,” the young kid said appreciatively. Sam had to admit that people tended
to be a bit nicer and more hospitable in small towns, especially in the Midwest
and the South.

“Sam!” Janet
cried as she spotted him through the glass doors. She trotted around her desk
to greet them as they held the door open for the pizza boy.

“Hi, Janet,” he
said as he greeted her with a wide smile.

“It’s so good to
see you in one piece,” she laughed. She nodded to Lisa. Sam had always liked
Janet. Although at times she was a bit slow, she was one of the kindest people
he had ever known.

“It’s good to be
in one piece,” Sam laughed. “Where’s the boss?”

“She’s in her
office,” Janet said. Then she put her hand up for a moment, a telltale sign
that she had some gossip to share with Sam.

“What’s been
going on here, Janet?” he said, feeding her excitement to share her side of the
story. “After all, you are the heart of this place. Nothing happens here
without you knowing about it,” he pushed.

“Well, I
consider it part of my job to know the scoop,” Janet said as if she were a
Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. Within a minute-and-a-half, Janet had
brought him up to speed. Sam shook his head at the sheer speed of her mouth.

Some muscle
mouth
,
he thought to himself with a chuckle.

“What’s so
funny, Sam?” Janet asked, feigning offense. He laughed again.

“You’re amazing,
Janet,” he coddled her. “Could you take Lisa here and get her a few slices of
pizza? She’s been sitting by my side since this shit went down and I’m sure
she’s hungry.”

Used to being
pushed aside so he could work, Lisa walked with Janet as she continued to share
gossip about the people in town. He watched his wife walk away and admired her
form. After almost two decades of marriage, he still felt warm inside when he
watched her. He turned toward the sheriff’s office, but was bombarded by
Geraldine and Aaron.

“Sam!” Aaron
shouted while slapping him hard on the shoulder. Sam winced. “Oh, shit,” Aaron
said as he stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,
Aaron,” Sam said as he absorbed the frightened looks on his friends’ faces.
“What’s up, guys?”

“We’re on our
way to the Laundromat,” Geraldine said.

“Why the hell are
you going there?” he asked.

“Michael has
been there for almost an hour,” Aaron offered. “Sheriff sent him to dust for
prints to see who called in the murder of Ole Brickton.”

“An hour? He’s
been gone an hour?” Sam said. “And no one has heard from him?”

“No,” Geraldine
said. “And Janet has been trying to reach him. But so far we’ve heard nothing.”

“Does the
sheriff need me to go with you?” Sam asked, surprised that Crimson Falls was
actually seeing a share of the madness he had seen for so long in Chicago.

“I don’t know,
but we need to move quickly,” Aaron said. “So if you don’t mind,” he said as he
pushed past Sam.

“Of course, of
course,” Sam answered, impressed by their sense of urgency. “Stay safe and call
us if you need us.”

“Will do, Sam,”
Geraldine said. And in a flash they were out the door. Sam looked over at Lisa,
who was standing by the table watching. She smiled a weak smile, and returned
to nodding at Janet, who was still talking incessantly.

Having a moment
to himself, Sam shook his head. In all the years of tracking serial killers,
attempting to understand the minds of sociopaths and kidnappers, he had never
encountered the strange occurrences he had experienced today. It had an almost
supernatural feel to it, though he would never say that out loud. He was having
difficulty acknowledging it to himself. Just then Rick and John walked toward
him, leaving the sheriff’s office.

“And where are
you guys headed?” he asked.

“We’re on our
way to the Brickton estate to help Jake and the guys,” Rick replied flatly.

“Hold on, guys,”
Sam said with an authoritative tone. He jogged into Anna’s office, hoping she
had plans for him. She was on the phone, so he waited patiently. He nodded to
Anna’s children who were sitting at the table talking excitedly, but quietly.
He looked out the door at Rick and John, waving them to go ahead without him.

“Sam!” Trevor
shouted, jumping up from his chair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m a little
bruised, but otherwise fine,” Sam said.

“What do you
think that was? I think it wasn’t human!” Trevor shared.

Anna hung up the
phone and walked around her desk. “Sam!” she said with a smile. She hugged him.
“Good to see you in one piece.”

Trevor slumped
back into his chair.

“So I’ve heard,”
Sam joked. “Sheriff, where do you need me?” He could tell she appreciated his
willingness not only to help, but to do as she asked.

“I want you to
stay with me,” she said without hesitation. “Turns out that Mr. Brickton had a
heart attack.”

“Really?” Sam
asked, thinking that whoever had been running through the woods must have given
the old man quite a scare. Although somewhat rare, “heart terrors,” as they
called it in Chicago, did happen from time to time.

“A professor is
coming from the university to tell us what kind of animal the murder weapon
came from,” Anna continued. This was news to Sam.

“Okay,” he said
slowly, remembering the large yellowish object sticking out of the back of Alan
Brickton’s neck.

“I would like
you to be here when he arrives,” she said. “I need your background and
experience.”

“Whatever you
need, Sheriff,” he said. “When are we expecting him?”

“In the next
hour or so,” she said. “I know that’s a while, but I want to bring you up to
speed and have Damien show you what’s been going on in the video room.”

“Sounds good,
boss,” Sam said. He was the only person who had seen the video room. He
appreciated Anna’s trust and respect. She had come to Chicago to interview him
after he had called her, asking about any open positions. He knew she would be
curious about why he would want to move to Crimson Falls after his background
in – and love for – Chicago.

“My family comes
from Crimson Falls, way back,” he said to her when she visited Chicago. “It is
my intention to return there with my wife and leave all this behind.”

“Consider
yourself hired,” Anna promised. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“How about now?”
he answered quickly. Having reached his saturation level, he was ready to get
out of Chicago. He had seen all the dead people and murdered children he could
handle. He laughed to himself as he remembered looking forward to a relaxing
retirement as a member of the Crimson Falls Police Department.

“What’s so
funny?” Anna asked, bringing him back to the present.

“I was just
remembering how different I thought this would be from Chicago,” Sam said as he
smiled.

“Well let’s just
hope it stays that way,” Anna said. “But I think that may have been shot to
hell a few hours ago.”

“Then let’s
shoot the hell out of this bastard,” Sam said. He saw Damien sitting in the
video room and walked toward him to watch a whole new version of reality
television.

Janet suddenly
ran into the room with a piece of paper in her hand. “This fax just came to
you. It’s from Dr. Styles.” Janet handed it to Anna, then stood in front of
her, waiting impatiently to see Anna’s reaction.

“I think Lisa
needs you,” Sam said. Janet frowned, then turned and left the office. He looked
at Anna’s expression, which was inscrutable.

“Just as I
thought,” she said as she handed the fax to Sam.

“What’s that?”
he asked. The fax was a copy of an autopsy report from over twenty years ago.
Highlighted in the middle of the page were the words,
Cause of Death:
Several puncture wounds in posterior neck. Animal attack.

“That’s the
report from Matthew McMillan’s autopsy,” Anna said softly as she led Sam into
the video room.

“McMillan?” Sam
said, thinking of Father Matthew.

“Yes, Father
Matthew’s father.”

Sam remembered
what Anna had told him when she first showed him the video room. Three people
had been killed, and Matthew McMillan, Sr., had been the most prominent of the
three.

“He died the
same way as Alan Brickton,” Sam said.

“It’s happening
again,” Anna whispered as she glared at the still photo of the ghost of Matthew
McMillan, Senior, on the screen.

1

Jake and the
others continued searching the Brickton house for the priests. After walking
through the kitchen, they paused in the living room and stared at the large
windows.

“Jesus Christ,”
he groaned to George. “Where the hell are these people? Call Tim to see if they
found anything.” George reached for his radio, was about to speak into it, and
abruptly froze.

“Jake, look,” he
said as he pointed out the window. Jake followed his finger and looked into the
yard. There, illuminated by the light from the spotlight behind the house, was
a large man standing about twenty yards from the tree line.

“Shit!” Jake
yelled. He grabbed George’s radio out of his hand. “Tim, get to a window in the
rear of the house! Someone’s in the backyard!”

“Copy that,” Tim
responded immediately. They heard the heavy footsteps of Tim, Lionel, and Ralph
running above them.

“We see him,”
Lionel answered.

Everyone stood
in silence as they watched the figure in the yard. Jake wondered who it could
be, but gauging the size he figured it was a man. Suddenly someone else
appeared in the yard, running toward the other person.

“Oh Jesus, he
doesn’t see him!” George yelled. Jake sprinted toward the large windows and
began pounding on them. The man in the yard quickly turned around, as if
startled by the sound. Then he saw the other person running toward him. Rather
than trying to make a break for it, he held his hands out as if to defend
himself.

“What do we do?”
Tim asked through the radio.

“I’m not going
out there,” George whispered to Jake, who held up his hand to make him stop
talking.

“Jake? Come in,
Jake,” the radio screamed, making both Jake and George jump.

“Do you see
that? I think whoever is out there is using a radio,” George said.

“You think so,
genius?” Jake mocked, pushing him away.

“Jake, this is
Rick. I have John with me. We are securing the yard.”

“Get your
dumbasses in here!” Jake hollered into the radio as he simultaneously punched
the window.

“Jake!” George
yelled, pointing toward the woods behind Rick and John.

“
RUN!”
Jake
yelled into his radio as he ran toward the backdoor, gun in hand.

“I hope you
reloaded that shit,” George screamed behind him, trying to keep up. Jake heard
the thunderous sound of the others running down the stairs. He figured they
must have seen the shadows moving in the trees behind Rick and John as well.

Jake prayed as
he ran. He prayed that Rick and John would be at the backdoor when he unlocked
it. He prayed that he wouldn’t have to see anymore dead bodies. He already felt
sick that Sheriff Kelly’s corpse was somewhere in the woods and he wasn’t able
to bring the body back to give him a proper burial.

Suddenly the
sound of gunshots rang through the yard. Jake continued running toward the door
while George doubled back. “I’ll shoot through the goddamn window if I have
to!” he yelled to Jake.

When Jake arrived
at the backdoor he quickly unlocked and opened it. He half expected a monster
to be standing on the other side of it. Holding his breath, he walked through
the door and onto the small deck. Rick and John were almost to the foot of the
stairs leading up to where Jake was standing. He held the door open with his
foot, and stood facing in their direction with his gun pointed behind them.

“Something was
coming out of the woods!” Rick yelled as he took the stairs two at a time. John
was close on his heels.

“Quick, get
inside!” Jake ordered. He followed them in and locked the door behind him,
fumbling with the bolt. “Jesus,” he moaned through his heavy breathing. George
and Tim jogged into the kitchen from the living room with wide smiles on their
faces.

“What’s so
goddamn funny?” Jake demanded.

“It was a deer,”
Tim said. “A freaking deer.”

“You’re shitting
me,” Jake said. He stood for a moment as they all looked at each other. He then
walked into the living room. There, plain as day, was the carcass of a deer in
the yard.

“That was
insane,” Rick said.

“Why were you
even outside?” Lionel asked. “Why would you think that it would be safe to be
out there in the dark?”

“Did you not see
the shit that went on in the woods?” George asked, remembering the cameras and Anna
speaking to them as if she was right there.

“We were close
to the house,” John offered. “Nothing was going to happen.”

“Tell that to
the deer,” George laughed.

Everyone
grinned, except Jake. He had a look of concern on his face.

“Why the long
face?” Rick asked.

“Am I the only
hunter here?” Jake asked, almost angrily.

“No, why would
you ask that?” Lionel said.

“Am I the only
person who thinks it’s strange that a deer would just walk into somebody’s
backyard when two grown men were standing not a hundred feet from it?”

Everyone stood
and looked at Jake. He shrugged, waiting for a response. “Because I think
that’s a little suspicious,” he finished.

“Who knows what
Acorn Alan did with the wildlife around here,” George huffed. “I mean, I
wouldn’t be surprised if he fed them or some weird shit.”

“No, that ain’t
it,” Jake insisted. “Sheriff Kelly and I used to hunt on this land. Alan may
have been batshit crazy, but he was a damn fine hunter. No way in hell any
animal in its right mind would come anywhere near that guy. Or this house.”

“So why do you
think it came at us?” Rick asked.

“Because
whatever was in those woods scared it more than you did,” Jake suggested.
Again, everyone stood and stared at him. George was the first to look back
toward the window.

“Oh, Hell no!”
he howled. Again, he pointed toward the window.

No one said a
word, but everyone was thinking the same thing.
Where did the body of the
deer go?

“I’ve about had
my fill of this shit,” Jake said forcefully. “We need to find those priests and
get outta of this damn place.”

“Copy that,”
John and Rick said at the same time.

Jake looked at
Tim, Lionel, and Ralph. “You guys find anything up there?”

“Negative,” Tim
said. “Just seven large bedrooms and four gigantic bathrooms. No sign of anyone
anywhere. And it looks like Alan hadn’t gone up there much either.”

“Rick, John, go
upstairs and see if you find anything. Tim, take Lionel and Ralph and see if
this shithole has a basement. If you find one, then call us on the radio and
we’ll see what’s down there as a group. George and I will go back down this
hall and see what we can find.”

The three groups
split up and began searching for Matthew and Amy.

“I swear to God
I’m gonna knock the shit out of these guys,” George said in frustration as they
made their way toward the rooms that Jake had already searched.

“It makes no
sense,” Jake said. “I don’t think this place has a basement, but if there is
one then Tim will find it.”

After searching
the four rooms again, Jake and George stood in the library in silence. George
leaned against the large table. “This table doesn’t even shake,” he said with a
laugh. “And I’m not exactly a small man.”

“Move,” Jake
said. “Grab that corner and pull the table out.”

“What for?”

“Just do it,”
Jake growled. Together they attempted to move the table, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Why would a
table be bolted against the wall?” George asked. Jake took a small flashlight
he had grabbed from the mudroom since he lost his in the woods.

“Let’s find out.”

* * * * * *

2

Jason Styles was
waiting at the designated meeting spot, McDonalds, eating a double cheeseburger
and fries. Suddenly someone walked up to his car and knocked on the window.

“Shit!” Jason
yelled, dropping a handful of fries into his lap.
Goddammit, in my new
mustang,
he thought to himself. He looked up and smiled, immediately
apologizing for his language. “I’m so sorry. Professor Bearson?”

“Yes, Mr.
Styles. A pleasure to see you again,” he said with a wide smile. The professor
was a massive man. Jason figured he must have been at least 6’5, with a
chiseled, square face and dark eyes. He looked weathered, with silky grey hair
pulled back in a ponytail.

“And you,
Professor,” Jason said. His father had raised him with manners. If it got back
to the good doctor that Jason hadn’t been polite, he would get the shit kicked
out of him. Well, verbally anyway. He had been working out since he was
fifteen, and now, ten years later, he had a body he could be proud of. Not to
mention all the women he wanted. Ah, the women.

“Shall we?” the
professor asked.

“Shall we what?”
Jason asked, confused.

“Dispense with
the pleasantries,” the professor said coolly. “Please, call me Anish.”

“Sure,” Jason
said uncomfortably. “Would you like to see the weapon?”

“Yes, please,”
Anish said in his deep voice. His accent didn’t seem as heavy in person as it
was on the phone. Regardless, Jason couldn’t figure out where it was from. He
figured Native American, though he thought the professor was born and raised in
Minneapolis. Jason reached into the backseat and pulled the weapon from a box.
It was vacuum-sealed in a large, clear bag. He stepped out of the car and
handed it to Anish, then proceeded to lean over and clean up the fallen fries.

“Very
interesting,” Anish said as he rolled the weapon in his hands. Jason stood back
up and faced Anish. Only 5’9, the professor towered over him.

“What do you
think?” he asked, trying to sound intelligent.

“I think this is
very interesting,” he repeated.

That’s helpful
, Jason thought.
Those Indian types are very quiet. Must be his culture.
He fought the
desire to shake his head, thinking the old professor was being a tad rude.
Perhaps
he could join me in my culture and my time period.

“I apologize for
being cryptic,” Anish said as he raised an eyebrow. Jason immediately felt
uncomfortable.

Can he hear my
freakin’ thoughts?

“And no, I can’t
hear your thoughts,” Anish laughed heartily. Jason wanted nothing more than to
get back into his mustang and drive home and get laid.

“So what do you
think it’s from?” Jason asked, trying to forget his discomfort. He was
genuinely interested in what the professor thought about the mysterious
weapon/artifact.

“I think it’s
hard to say,” Anish said, making Jason think that the weapon wasn’t the only
mysterious thing at McDonald’s tonight.

“Can I get you
something to eat for the drive to Crimson Falls?” Jason asked.

“I ate before I
came,” Anish said flatly. “We should hit the road.”

For someone with
good English slang, he sure could use a lesson in politeness
, Jason thought.
He tried to push the thought away, afraid the freaky professor could hear him.
Anish smiled and turned back toward his car, holding the weapon tightly in his
right hand.

“I’ll take this
with me,” Anish said without turning around. “I know the way, so don’t worry if
I lose you.”

Jason laughed.
“I seriously doubt you’ll lose me. I have a five liter engine with..” but Anish
cut him off mid-thought.

“Of course, of
course,” Anish laughed. He climbed into his ancient Ford F250. The door creaked
as he closed it.

“Piece of shit,”
Jason mumbled as he sat down in his black mustang. He revved the engine, just
to show the professor that he could smoke his ass if he wanted. Anish waved
from the window and slowly pulled out of his space. He then drove over the curb
and into the grass, accelerating and flying onto the road. Cars swerved to miss
him, honking their horns in anger.

“Holy Christ,”
Jason cried in amazement. Maybe he had misjudged the professor.

* * * * * *

3

Anna sank into
her chair once she heard Sam reviewing the tapes with Damien. She looked at her
children who were sitting at the conference table and let out a deep sigh.
Tommy looked up at her from his book on Abraham Lincoln.

“What’s up,
Mom?” he asked. She knew he wasn’t really reading, but was trying to remain
calm so she didn’t worry.

“How’s your
book?” she asked without answering his question.

“It’s great!” he
said with feigned excitement. “Did you know that the Gettysburg Address is only
272 words long?”