Point Pleasant (43 page)

Majors turned to his commanding officer as if to gauge Nicholas’ reaction before revealing his own. Nicholas’ jaw clenched. He brought the Remington up into both hands and checked the chamber.

“There’s only one round,” he observed and turned to Ben. “Tell me you have more.”

“In my bag. It was at the factory.”

“Of course it was,” Nicholas sighed.

“I’m guessing it’s still there, then,” Ben said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets to keep himself from fidgeting.

“Once again, I had other shit on my mind, Ben.”

“Calm down,” Ben said and shot Nicholas a scowl. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, we got plenty of rounds in the armory, Sheriff,” Majors said, rising from his chair and adjusted his gun holster.

“We need
salt
, Majors.”

“What the hell do we need salt for? It ain’t a fucking slug on your stoop!” As Majors spoke, white static consumed the surveillance screens.

“Ah, shit. What now?” Majors said when he noticed the change in the reflection on the double-sided glass.

The deputy whirled to address the issue, and Nicholas headed toward the door, but their movements were halted when a noise like ragged wipers on a wet windshield broke the silence.

“The fuck was that?” Nicholas asked, reeling on his heel.

“Maybe it was from one of the feeds,” Majors said, and he smacked his open palm against one of the screens.

The screech came again, slow and intentional, and the hair on the nape of Ben’s neck erected to full mast when he realized the noise came from the glass behind him.

He turned with slow caution and stared into the dark room through the clear glass. Nicholas stepped in front of Ben as if something might burst through the surface at any moment. He raised the Remington, his grip firm around its stock and forend. There was a click, and Ben knew that Majors had drawn his gun from his holster.

The deputy crept forward and caught Nicholas’ gaze. Nicholas nodded to Ben and then to a light switch on the wall beside the pane of glass. Ben returned the nod and reached out with his right hand. The pad of his index finger found the toggle, and he pushed up.

The interrogation room on the other side of the glass was illuminated. The space was empty, but there was a barren table and set of chairs just as Ben had envisioned. Majors leaned close to the glass and peered to the left and the right of the room as if to try to check the corners, though the view was limited. His lips were pursed, and he breathed through his nose. The patch of glass closest to his nostrils went foggy.

“It’s clear,” he said, but uncertainty prickled at his tone.

A crack of thunder boomed outside, and the overhead light wavered. The thunder came again like a giant fist had punched a hole in the sky above the Sheriff’s Department. The lights died. Darkness flooded the surveillance and interrogation rooms. Ben did not have to look toward the open door to know that the hallway was cast in black as well.

“Goddamnit!” Majors said. “Are you kidding me?”

“Give it a minute,” Nicholas replied. “The generator will kick in.”

Within seconds, Nicholas’ words were confirmed. Light, though much duller than before, filtered from above. Ben almost breathed out a sigh of relief.

Then he saw the
thing
on the other side of the glass.

Majors leapt back and shouted a curse. The black figure with red eyes and no mouth had its face pressed where the deputy’s nose had just rested.

Azazel tilted his head to the left. Ben was certain that if the fallen angel had a mouth, he would have smiled at them.

The three of them stood in stunned horror as Azazel straightened, lifted one of the writhing shapes from behind his back, and trailed it across the surface of the glass that separated them. Another long, piercing screech accompanied the motion, and a wave of goosebumps rocketed down Ben’s spine.

The shape drew back and snapped forward with a speed so swift that Ben barely registered what had happened. The glass shattered, and the lights went out once more.

Majors fired. The discharge of his gun flared against the darkness in three quick successions like the roll of flint in a dry lighter. The blare of the shots sent Ben’s hands to his ears as he stumbled back and connected with the desk chair.

Nicholas yelled a curse of his own, and the gleam of a flashlight appeared like a sudden ray from on high. Nicholas balanced the shotgun in one arm and whipped the light around the interrogation room. Broken glass continued to drop to the floor, tinkling in a way that reminded Ben of the slow, steady trickle of piano keys in a Hitchcockian film score.

Azazel was gone.

“Majors, now!” Nicholas shouted. The beam of his flashlight bobbed as he ran out of the room. Majors followed, and the stomp of his boots on the marble floor tiles echoed down the hallway.

Ben fumbled toward the doorway and caught sight of the flashlight just before the men rounded the corner that led to the interrogation room. There was a crash, and Ben could only assume that the door had been kicked open with force. His pace quickened as he trailed the dark corridor, letting his left hand slide along the cold concrete to guide himself.

“All clear,” Nicholas said from inside the room. “Where the
fuck
did it go? Ben? Where’s Ben?”

He strode into the hallway, and Ben caught the relief on the sheriff’s face in the dim glow of the light. Majors held his Glock down so that its business end was aimed at the floor.

“Never mind that. What the
fuck
was it?” the deputy demanded.

“Sheriff!” a voice called from the other end of the passageway. Ford’s deep tone reverberated like the gunshots that still rang in Ben’s ears.

“Who fired?” Astrid asked.

“Stay there!” Nicholas yelled. “We’re coming to you. It’s in the building.”

He shoved the flashlight toward Ben, who took it without question. Nicholas raised the Remington, and Ben aimed the light down the corridor. The way was clear, and Astrid and Daniel were poised at the end with their guns drawn.

Majors slid his own flashlight from his belt and pointed its ray down the other end of the hallway. He kept his back to Ben and Nicholas as the three of them edged toward the other deputies.

“What do you mean
it’s
in the building?” Daniel asked in a hushed hiss when they were close.

“He means it’s in the fucking building, Danny!” Majors shot back.

Astrid squared her shoulders and flexed her fingers around the grip of her Glock. “What do we do?”

“Where’s Sarah?” Majors asked, craning to peer behind Astrid’s shoulder.

“We left her up front,” Daniel said.

“Why the hell’d you leave her alone?” Majors demanded through gritted teeth. He brushed past Astrid and Daniel and hurried to the front of the station.

Nicholas nudged Ben to follow the deputies as they led the way back to the main office while he kept an eye on the hallway behind them. The lack of a stable overhead light only seemed to magnify the acoustics of their footsteps on the floor, and Ben wished he could see as well as he could hear in that moment.

Sarah was still by the desk from earlier, and Majors had pulled her into an embrace.

“What’s happening, Carl?” she asked as Astrid and Daniel checked the corners and under the desks with their own flashlights before they nodded to Nicholas to signal the room was secure.

Nicholas remained close to Ben. They exchanged a brief glance, and Nicholas cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “We’re just going to do a quick sweep of the building. Majors, you go with Ford. Thomas, you come with me. Ben, stay with Sarah.”

“But—” Ben started to object, but Nicholas gave him a gentle push toward Sarah.

“Stay with Sarah,” he repeated. “Shout if you see anything.”

The officers disappeared, each pair setting down separate hallways with their flashlights and guns at the ready. A bolt of lightning from outside lit up the office, and the ensuing roar of thunder seemed to shake the ceiling tiles overhead.

“Why is this happening?” Sarah asked, her voice lowered to a whisper.

“It’s just a storm,” Ben said, joining her in the center of the room.

“What’s in the building?” Sarah asked, the question tumbling from her lips in a quick jumble of panicked words. “Is it the thing from the woods? The thing with the wings?”

“I don’t know,” Ben lied. Sarah’s features were pinched so tight with worry that Ben thought it best to save her further distress. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten married,” he said after a moment. “How long?”

“Seven years,” Sarah replied. “No sign of the itch yet, far as I can tell.”

Ben offered a small smile. “How many kids?”

“Two,” she said and tried to smile in return, though the effort was strained. “A girl and a boy.”

“Well, congratulations,” Ben said. “Even if it’s a late offer.”

“Thanks.”

Silence fell between them, and Ben shone the flashlight around the corners of the room to ensure they were still alone.

“You picked quite a time to come home,” Sarah said in what seemed like an attempt to make conversation.

“I’ll say,” Ben replied. “I was looking forward to funnel cakes in the square next week.”

Sarah’s laugh was slight but genuine.

Nicholas and Astrid returned a moment later. The beam of the deputy’s flashlight raked the room.

“All clear?” Ben asked.

Nicholas gave a curt nod just as Daniel and Majors entered through the other set of doors.

“Anything?” Nicholas asked.

“Not a damn thing,” Daniel replied.

Majors rejoined his wife and slid an arm around her shoulders. Ben moved away toward Nicholas to give the couple some space, and his thoughts wandered to Grant Harper’s words from the day before.
You can’t see it unless it wants you to
. He debated whether or not to share this comment with Nicholas when the radio on the sheriff’s belt crackled. Nicholas scrambled to pull the handheld free and pressed a button on the side.

“This is Sheriff Nolan. Come in.”

The radio sputtered again, and a male voice on the other end rose from the speaker.

“
10-71, 10-71! Officer down!
”

“Copy that,” Nicholas said. His voice was calm, though the thumb of his right hand shook imperceptibly as it hovered over the radio’s call button. “What’s your 10-20?”

Static licked at the frequency like a dog tending a wound.

“Officer, 10-20. Identify yourself. I need your location,” Nicholas said.

Astrid’s radio let out a keening wail of emergency tones, and she yanked it from her belt. Before she could reply, a chorus of screams erupted from the device.

“
11-99!
” shouted another male voice. “
I repeat, 11-99 at the corner of Phelps and Main
.”

Before Astrid could respond, Daniel and Majors’ radios let out bursts of garish tones far louder than those that crackled from Astrid and Nicholas’ handhelds. The four officers’ radios emitted a sudden, simultaneous shriek so loud that Ben and Sarah each grabbed at their ears.

“
10-43, Sheriff
,” said a cruel voice on Nicholas’ radio.

“
We got another 10-56. Over
,” said the same voice over Astrid’s.

“
I’m 10-51
,” laughed the mocking tone from Daniel’s.

“Take your battery packs out,” Nicholas ordered, fumbling with the back of his radio. “It’s fucking with us.”

“
Nicholas James Nolan!
” scolded a familiar voice from Nicholas’ radio. Ben was immediately reminded of the morning he and Nicholas had trudged into the Sheriff’s Department with Tucker. The roar of Deputy Nate Nolan’s voice had carried through the department like an echo through a deep cave. That same register was just as affecting now, and Nicholas went rigid at Ben’s side.

“
That’s no way to speak in front of your lesser officers
,” Nate Nolan’s voice chided. “
What would your mother say? I’d ask her, but there’s been a terrible accident
.”

In the glow of the flashlight, Ben saw Nicholas go pale.

“Oh,
fuck you
,” the sheriff said, his tone low and laced with revulsion. He balanced the stock of the Remington under his right arm, snapped the battery pack out of his radio, and tossed it across the room. Astrid and Daniel did the same, though Majors continued to cling to his handheld.

“What if the calls are real? We need to get out there? We need to check—”

“
Daddy?
” asked a meek voice from Majors’ radio. It seemed to belong to a young girl, probably no older than six.

“Gretchen!” Sarah shouted, apparently recognizing the voice as that of her daughter.

“
Daddy, where are you? Amy went out into the backyard with Brady. I can’t see them anymore
.”

“Oh my God, Carl!” Sarah cried out and reached for her husband’s radio.

“
It’s so dark, Daddy
,” said the little voice before it heaved out a sob. Majors kept the radio out of Sarah’s grasp.

“Sarah, it’s a trick!” Ben said. “I got messages like that earlier about my sister! She was fine when I called.”

“You don’t know that!” Sarah replied. “That’s my baby!”

Majors’ eyes grew frantic as the girl’s voice continued to cry.

“
Daddy, there’s someone in the house
.”

Sarah choked out a scream and tore away from her husband’s side. She was out the front entrance and had disappeared into the darkness before Majors could stop her.

“Sarah!” Majors yelled, taking off after his wife.

The glass doors of the entrance hung open in the wake of his exit. Heavy rain beat against the pavement outside.

“Carl!” Astrid called out, and Daniel put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from darting after them.

“Sheriff, what do we do?” he demanded.

“It was in the building,” Nicholas said. “Not even ten minutes ago! How could it be all the way over on Echols?”

“The recording,” Ben said. “From River Bend Road. Tucker translated it. Said Azazel was talking about how the ‘others were coming.’”