Duel Nature (16 page)

“Well those are the remains of a couple of
them that lived in this forest. They’re demonic in nature and from
what I can gather, are particularly dangerous to weres.”

“Weres? As in werewolves?” Gordon asked,
glancing at Jake in the circle and Awasos a few yards away.

“Yeah, the Dogman sightings are based on
werewolves, of which Michigan has a healthy population. This forest
though has been off limits to the local packs because of the
wendigos.”

“How can anything prey on werewolves?” Mitch
asked, a thousand more questions bubbling behind his eyes.

“Demons can project a sort of cloak, not so
much of invisibility but of ‘you don’t see me’. It effects humans,
weres and vampires as far as I know.”

“How do you know, Chris? Who
are you? How did these wendigos die? And
vampires?
” Mitch asked in a
flurry.

“I specialize in demons. I’ve done it my
whole life. Some people will tell you I was chosen by God to live
this life, but I don’t know. It’s just what I do. Tanya, Awasos and
I are a team, we trouble shoot problems in the supernatural world,”
I said with a wave at the bonfire and its greasy pall of black
smoke. “And yes vampires.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening here?
Who is the wolf? “ Gordon asked.

“The wolf is Jake. He’s a new were and was
coming here to be secluded when the moon made him Change. His
presence brought the wendigos around. They had always avoided the
Boklunds before, but the draw of a young were was irresistible to
them. I still don’t know why the wendigos prefer to hunt weres
except that if they fed on life force then supernaturals might
provide a greater dose. We didn’t know where the demons had come
from or what gave them their abilities, but we are reasonably sure
they have been eradicated.”

“The bird thing? That was part of the…what do
you call it? Exorcism?” Mitch asked.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “He removes them from
our realm or dimension if you will and hauls them back to their
own.”

“How did that thing know to come for them?”
Gordon asked.

“I called him,” I answered.

“What? You have a cell phone to heaven or
something?” Mitch asked, incredulous. ‘This is ridiculous.”

“You know what? You’re right. Just a big joke
and now you’re on to us,” I said, standing up from the picnic table
we were seated at and dusting off my pants.

“Wait, you can’t do that! You can’t tell us
this fantastic story and then tell us to forget about it or provide
proof,” Gordon said.

“Listen, if you want proof, just sit back and
watch the wolf in the circle. In a few hours he’s gonna change back
into a naked guy. But no photos!” I admonished with a finger wave.
“In fact you can’t write up any of this!”

“What! Why not?” Mitch asked.

“Because the supernatural world wants to stay
hidden and it protects its secrets viciously. If you try to publish
any of this stuff I can’t be responsible for what happens to you,”
I said.

“That’s a threat? You’re threatening us?”
Mitch asked, getting angry.

“No Mitch, I’m explaining the facts of life
to you. Should you try to publish this stuff, you’ll find
yourselves out of jobs, with broken credit ratings and completely
discredited. There are really powerful people who have a vested
interest in keeping this stuff quiet. Their reach is long and
deep.”

The two men exchanged glances then turned
back to me.

“So that’s it? We get to watch a real
werewolf turn back to human but can’t study it?” Gordon asked.

“Study all you want. Study your hearts out,
but don’t take photos. Listen write it down but make your notes
sound like fiction like…I don’t know…Steven King or something. That
would probably be alright,”

“Write our observations like what? Science
fiction? Horror?” Mitch asked.

“Sure, why not. Create a fictional
investigator and pretend you’re writing novels about him. That way
if anyone reads your notes they’ll think you just have vivid
imaginations.”

“But no one will ever know that it’s real!”
Gordon protested.

“That’s the point. How much of your research
have you published so far?”

“Well, none of it. We haven’t exactly found
proof till now,” Mitch answered.

“So do you think a series of photos or a
video will be considered proof by anyone? The modern world loves
supernatural fiction, but it’s not remotely ready for the real
deal,” I told them.

I spent a few more minutes with the
professors then went looking for Tanya. I found her in our cabin
cleaning with a ferocious energy.

“Whatcha doing that for? They said it only
needed to be broom swept,” I asked as I watched her vacuum.

“They’re witches Chris. Do you want to leave
hair and other DNA stuff around for them to cast sympathetic magic
with?” she asked.

“Oh, hadn’t thought of that,” I answered.

“That’s cause they’re pretty blondes. But the
mother is scared to death of us, the love struck daughter will
protect her werewolf and the other one would likely try and cast a
love spell on you,” she said, pulling out the vacuum’s bag. “Here,
burn this in our fire while I grab the sheets.”

The flames flared around the paper vacuum bag
and the smoke smelled like burning hair. I stirred the fire with a
poker stick making sure everything was burned. As I gazed into the
coals my phone rang. The caller id told me it was my
grandfather.

“Hey what’s up Gramps?” I answered.

“Chris, it’s Len,” said the voice of my
grandfather’s right hand man.

“Len? What’s up? Where’s Gramps?” I asked,
Cheenos and witches already forgotten.

“Chris, you need to come home, your
grandfather’s in the hospital,” he said, gravely.

An hour later, we pulled away from the
resort, having assured ourselves that Jake would be alright and
telling the Boklunds that I had a family emergency. Quinby wasn’t
unhappy to see us go, but I think she meant it when she wished my
grandfather a rapid recovery.

***

The fastest way home to Gramps, short of a
private jet, was to cross into Canada, traverse the southern
portion just above the Great Lakes and come back down into New York
State at Ogdensburg or maybe Massena. The closest border crossing
was at Sault Sainte Marie on the northeastern edge of the Upper
Pennisula, so we headed there, Tanya driving while I called Len for
more details.

Fast closing in on eighty years of age, Len
wasn’t overly comfortable with cell phones and so our conversation
was short. Gramps had collapsed at the breakfast table, clutching
his chest in the classic sign of a heart attack. The ambulance had
taken him to Potsdam hospital where he was being treated, but Len
didn’t know anything new, leaving me completely without
answers.

Gramps was my only remaining family and now I
didn’t know if he would survive till I got there. A slim white hand
with the strength of a hydraulic clamp gently took my own as images
of my grandfather flickered through my head.

Chapter 18

It took a half hour to get to Munising then a
little less than two hours more to get to the border station at
Sault Sainte Marie. It was still dark, early morning, but the
crossing ahead seemed to be teeming with trucks and cars. Business
people and truck drivers getting an early start.

“We’ll need our passports,” Tanya said,
breaking my two hour plus reverie. Those were the first words
spoken in the SUV since leaving the resort. Oddly, that was okay.
Trying to tell me everything would be alright or that Gramps would
be fine would have been a useless gesture. Gramps was in his
seventies and I knew he wouldn’t live forever. It’s just I hadn’t
expected any problems at this stage of the game.

He was healthy as a horse
the last time I’d seen him. I say that not just because he appeared
to be fit and hale, but because he
smelled
healthy, both to me and Tanya.
People with health issues give off a different scent, one that
vampires are uniquely tuned to. Like the wolf pack that senses a
sickly elk, vampires will instinctively gravitate toward the
seriously ill. Which, when you think about is speaks to a more
natural predator-prey relationship between vamps and
humans.

But Tanya had made a point to reassure me
about his state of health last time we’d been home. For a man in
his seventies, Alex Gordon had the muscle tone and heart rate of a
man fifteen years younger. Farm life, even with modern equipment,
is guaranteed to keep your weight down and your fitness up. So I
was really surprised that he’d had a sudden heart attack.

“We don’t know that
he
did
have a heart
attack,” Tanya noted, doing that mind reading thing again. I sorta
expect it now.

“No we don’t, but based on what Len said,
that seems most likely,” I said, unzipping the document pouch to
get at the passports.

The line of vehicles heading onto the
International Bridge to Canada had been moving right along, but now
slowed to a crawl.

“Damn it! What’s the hold up?” I said, angry
at the delay.

We inched forward for another few minutes,
approaching what appeared to be an irregular checkpoint set up on
the long stretch of road approaching the Border Patrol building.
Several cruisers were parked in such a manner to create a
bottleneck, forcing cars through one at a time.

“That’s odd, they’re checking cars on the
U.S. side?” Tanya noted. “Ones leaving the country, not
entering.”

A burly officer in uniform, waved the car
ahead of us through the checkpoint, his eyes focused on us.

“Uh oh! I don’t like this too much,” I said.
Behind me Awasos growled his agreement.

Hard, flint gray eyes stared holes through
our vehicle as he held both arms up in a command to stop. Tanya
powered down her window and hit him with a million watt smile.

“Hi officer,” she said brightly. Most men
melted before she got to ‘hi’. This guy didn’t change expression.
About then I noticed his uniform was slightly different from the
standard Border Patrol design. First it wasn’t olive green, but jet
black. And second, the guy had his sidearm holstered in a thigh
holster, like some kind of SWAT team Tommy Tactical. The gun itself
was a Glock .45 not the Patrol’s issue HK P2000. His insignia was
different as well, with the main symbol being a set of crossed
black swords under the capital letters A.I.R. The whole thing was
subdued in color, as was the name patch that just read GLADIUS, no
rank anywhere on his uniform. He had some type of rifle slung
across his back.

I noticed all of that in the moment before he
firmly directed us out of the line of cars and over to a pair of
black Humvees that had the same logo on the door panels. Tanya
pulled the car to a stop at the direction of another black clad
agent, this one an equally serious blonde. Six other agents stepped
out around the car with rifles held directly on us.

“They don’t look happy to see us,” I said,
trying to get a look at the rifles. I couldn’t identify them which
bothered me on a lot of levels.

The rifle wielders were all in full body
armor and tactical gear, although it was subtly different somehow.
They all had matching deadly serious stares and very odd
rifles.

Standing back by fifteen yards or so was a
second group of agents, these all attired in the regular Border
Patrol olive green and armed with M4 assault rifles.

“GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE AND LIE ON THE
GROUND!” the blond woman screamed. We didn’t need to glance at each
other, but we both paused to think about it, our brains running at
hyper speed, our link suddenly at full combat mode. After a moment,
we simultaneously turned to our doors and popped them open with the
exact same motion. Like mirror images, we both knelt on the
pavement then dropped to our stomachs.

“PLACE BOTH HANDS ON YOUR HEADS!” was the
next command.

No sooner had we done so when hard knees
landed on our backs and strong hands pulled our wrists down to the
small of our backs to be cuffed, while a pair of odd rifle barrels
pressed against each of our heads.

I could simultaneously feel the barrels on my
head and the ones on Tanya’s, but it was the feeling of the hands
that triggered the memory. When I say they were strong, I’m talking
vampire strong, not human. The attack on me and Toni last fall
popped clearly into my head. Those attackers had moved with greater
than human speed.

“Your cuffs are made with depleted uranium.
Hers are silvered steel. Our weapons don’t use chemical propellants
and are loaded with alternating silver and DU rounds. Twitch and we
will literally blow you to bits. NOW GET UP!” said the female
agent.

Our brains were running in parallel. There
were multiple opportunities to counter, escape and attack. We
rejected each one, simultaneously arriving at the conclusion that
this was going to be a learning experience. We hoped the wait would
be rewarded.

Flexing our prone bodies, we both popped to
our feet, without any normal in between steps like kneeling. The
sudden motion flustered our captors for a split second, then the
surprise turned to anger and the hardened barrels of their odd
weapons smacked into us in reprisal. Awasos growled from inside the
SUV, but a look from each of us stopped his response before it
started.

Two ‘agents’ slammed the front doors shut,
then signaled to someone else. Instantly heavy diesel engines
revved and a four-pack of bright yellow adult-sized Tonka toys
moved up from every direction. Two D7 Caterpillar bulldozers came
up from each side of the Tahoe, giant steel blades pressing against
each set of doors. A smaller Kimatsu bucket loader pulled up to the
back of the car and blocked the tailgate doors. The final rig was a
very large front end loader, the kind that villages use to remove
snow from clogged roads in the winter. It rolled behind one of the
dozers and lowered its massive bucket onto the roof of the SUV
effectively completing Awasos’s makeshift prison.