Breathe Deep Fear Vol. 1 Page 8
“He kicked your ass, and felt you up while he was at it.”
“I was trying to get her to stop shooting me.” No way was he going to give any chance of being labeled a pervert. “It was dark out so I didn’t know she was a she.”
“He managed to use a blind tackle to try and take me by surprise. You can get lucky only so many times.”
She’d said it purely from a factual point of view and probably didn’t mean for it to sound bad. It still ticked him off. His manners be damned.
“A blind tackle? You sure this is about me being a civilian, or more about your wounded pride?” Cale stood up straight, days of agitation starting to boil over. “I mean, from where I’m standing, if I had been one of those monsters, well we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
Hawk’s eyes narrowed into a slight glare. He shot the look right back, and against his better judgment, he wasn’t going to let up.
“It must be pretty frustrating for you. You have done nothing but point guns at me and tell me what I couldn’t do, and I’ve proven you wrong every time.” He stepped towards her. “I think your training got put in its place and you’re just too much of a bit-”
“Enough!” Bear grabbed Cale, lifting the surprised farmer over his head. “One should not speak to comrades in such manner. I will test your worth.”
Cale’s protest died in his throat as he was flung across the room like a rocket.
Chapter
15
He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at Hawk, even without her group of armed, highly dangerous, friends surrounding him. He was raised better than to lash out at others. His family raised him to be humble, and he was sure as hell raised to talk to a lady with respect. Excuses were not acceptable.
It didn’t matter that the woman was incredibly infuriating.
She tried to kill him once, and threatened him at least twice more. Now, she was trying to pass herself off as better than him … at least that was the feeling he got from her. Although, it was difficult since everything she said sounded like it was recited from a textbook.
He should apologize regardless. It was the right thing to do, and then maybe the silver-haired Russian wouldn’t throw him across the room again. As his father had once said, ‘you don’t piss off a man with a buzz cut and lots of muscle. He may be military or a just a training addict; either way, he will turn you into paste’.
“I’m sorry, alright.” Cale put his hands up in a pacifying action. “I was out of line.”
“No, you were fine. Hawk’s just being stubborn as usual.” The masked man waved his hand. “Continue.”
“Woohoo, get him teddy bear.” Lamb waved her arm in the air like she was at a ball game. “You too cutie, give my teddy a good fight!”
“I will win the match for my lamb chop.”
Bear flung a punch, the force blowing Cale’s hair to the side as he dodged and launched a jab into the giant’s jaw. When had this become a match?
The Russian grabbed his arm and flung him into the pile of stacked mats along the wall. Cale barely had a chance to hop to his feet before Bear was after him again, trying to bring both fists down on top of his head. Slipping the technique, Cale wrapped his arms around his opponent’s waist.
Planting his feet and twisting, years of working with hay bales engrained the mechanics of throwing heavy objects into his muscles. Bear was lifted off the ground and he sailed nearly ten feet before crashing into the tables. Cale was no where near as strong, but with good technique, he could shrink the substantial gap slightly.
Of course, there was no way to fool himself about what had happened. That guy was going easy on him – really easy. If Bear had been serious, he would have been trounced almost as soon as it started. It showed in how he picked himself up out of the tables. Cale had flung him as hard as he could, and the giant just brushed himself off.
Hanging his head dejectedly was just for show. And Cale didn’t miss the brief look he shared with Wolf.
“All right, that’s enough fun.” Wolf glanced over at the redhead of the group. “Good enough for you, Hawk?”
“I have failed you my lamb chop.”
“Oh teddy.” Lamb hopped off the table and grabbed his hand, her hand completely engulfed as he gently wrapped his fingers around it. “You did fine. Come on, let’s go get a snack.”
Hawk walked over to him, looking him over with a calculating gaze.
“How did you learn to fight?”
“I live- lived in a town often populated by bikers and truckers. The only law enforcement they have is a seventy year old sheriff and a deputy with only one good eye. If I wanted to go to a bar or ever leave the house after seven at night, my parents insisted I learn how to handle myself. Brawling and knife fighting were a must. I’m not a karate master, but experience gave me the skills to handle myself. I also happen to be a decent shot and hunter. So, do I pass your little exam?”
“Just because I don’t want you getting killed doesn’t mean-”
He shook his head.
“Look, I’m sorry for being so disrespectful. I know better than that.”
“You are under extreme stress and heavily fatigued. It is understandable.”
A slow controlling breath escaped his lips.
“I’m trying to apologize.”
“There is no need. I am not affected by your opinion.”
A tight smile was plastered onto his face, before spinning on his heel and moving over to Wolf. It would be best not to talk to her much and be as brief and polite as possible when he did. Scratch that, he wouldn’t talk to her unless she was going to be eaten. That way, his temper stayed in check and she wasn’t bothered by him. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but she had a way of vaporizing his patience, and he refused to let yelling at her become common.
“So, now that you’ve made my decision for me.” Cale fought to keep the frustration clear of his voice. “What do I need to do now?”
“It’s been a long night for all of us. Hawk will show you where you’ll be staying. Breakfast is in six hours. We usually start our day early noon, since we mostly work at night. Wake up or miss out.”
It’d only been the remainder of the night? The gel was a miracle.
“Follow me please,” Hawk said as she made her way for the door.
So much for staying away from her.
They walked in silence, so he spent the time memorizing the layout. The walls were a simple whitewash reflecting the fluorescent light in the ceiling. However, letters or numbers were painted on the bottom of each corner at the end of the respective wall, and sequential combinations were on every door. What they stood for, he’d have to ask later, but at least now he would be able to have a general idea of where he was. It was a far cry from the woods where everything looked different and was full of distinguishing markers.
There were probably going to be a lot of different things.
Hawk stopped in front of a door labeled D 28.
“You’ll sleep here. Someone will come and get you for breakfast.”
Hawk left without another word, leaving him staring at the plain door. It opened with the press of a button and he walked inside. It was surprisingly roomy He’d expected to be living in a sardine can. But instead, there was a full sized bed with a small bed stand and even a closet. There was even enough room to pace back and forth when the nightmares kept him awake.
A powder blue note resting on the bed stand drew his attention.
Picking it up, a small smile unintentionally tugged at his lips.
Hey cutie, this is Lamb,
Bear and I wanted to say welcome to the team and sorry about the shower thing. I also had to say that you are in pretty good shape to throw Bear like that. Well, we’ll see you at breakfast. Oh, and check your closet; I saw someone put something special in it. I won’t tell you who. It’s a secret.
Slowly opening the closet door, a lump formed in his throat. Resting on the top shelf in a neatly folded bundle was his leather coat. I
t had been cleaned and the tears had been stitched up. He pulled it out, taking note of the scorch marks and stains that mixed in with the already worn fabric. Still, it was in good shape, even without taking into account the night’s events.
He sank back onto the bed and hugged the jacket close to him.
It was stupid, hugging it like a kid with a security blanket. He tilted to his side as tears pricked at the corners of his clenched eyes. Friends and neighbors had died last night. Mike and dozens of others were dead, and he had mutilated what remained after they changed.
As lonely as he felt, as much as he wanted to be home with Sam and Dean, he owed it to the ones that had passed to see this through. Maybe he couldn’t do anything, but if he could, then it would be wrong of him not to put everything into preventing other tragedies. He would give his all to stopping whatever was happening.
He would see home again.
Chapter
16
Sheriff Lyons leaned back in her creaky wooden chair with a content sigh. A gentle piano tune played through the empty station, the radio dial the only thing visible in the piles of papers stacked on her desk. She rolled her neck, gaining a sharp pop with every inch. Kicking her feet up on the closest stack, a smile graced her lips.
It was nice being alone and able to relax for a moment.
The local hoodlums had been becoming increasingly violent and destructive over the past month. That didn’t bother her. It was normal for them to get it out of their system this time of year, and the crew from the mining company would be heading out to boot. Skiing season was hopefully starting up in a few weeks, and residents had to spend most of the winter on their best behavior. Besides, it was mostly just a few brawls and smashed windows nothing a night of sobering up and an apology couldn’t fix.
Although, the slew of recent disappearances was adding a little more tension on everyone.
It was why, even though it was eleven at night, she was in the station instead of home, and why her deputies were still out on patrol while she came in to get warmed up. They had taken turns sleeping on the old cots in the dusty cells ever since the first person went missing two weeks ago.
She’d been sheriff for almost thirty years and had never seen or heard of anything like what they were dealing with. People vanishing at random, only a strange blue gelatin being discovered later. The only saving graces were that the incidents took place far outside of town, and that the victims were some of the more dangerous members of their tiny little town. It had… pacified their detective work.
The shrill ring of the phone punctured the silence, earning a groan as Lyons put her feet down and reached over to the desk next to her.
“Raging Brook Sheriff’s Office, this is Lyons.”
“Sheila, its Tony. I’m at Doc Hyde’s place. We’ve got a body.”
“What happened?”
“I’d come down here and see for yourself.”
Slamming the phone back down, she stood and pulled her dark brown sheriff’s jacket on. Her chief deputy knew better than to bother her on rest shift. It had to be important.
Outside, the freezing air nipped at her cheeks. There’d be a heavy frost in the morning, maybe even snow. Stuff was pretty to look at through a window with your back to a fire, not to be out in at the dead of night. One of the joys of living in the Montana Rocky Mountains.
The siren on her car blared to life, and she tore out of the gravel parking lot, kicking up loose stone and dust. The noise would probably wake up half the town if she was lucky. It would keep them on their toes.
Three minutes later, she skid to a stop in front of Doctor Hyde’s office.
The central building in a conjoined seven building row, the doc’s office was in the exact middle of the town, in between the bank and general store. Everyone knew where it was, that the doctor lived upstairs and was always available, and that a cop car out front in the middle of the night was big news.
She entered and went right, finding the narrow steps to the basement, or as the townsfolk called it, the corpse pit. They never had a lot of bodies, but if they did, they went there. Most of the time, the facility was used to prep a grandparent for a funeral.
“That was quick,” Tony said as she came down the stairs.
His hand nervously ran through his short peppered hair as she shot him a glare and stalked over to the table. A hunched-backed old man with only a single wisp of hair on his head sat hunched over a slick red sheet. His pale eyes briefly looked up at her, and then he tore the soaked sheet off the body.
God, she wished he’d given her a little time to prepare.
Lips curling up in disgust, she fought off a cringe as she stared at what was possibly once a human being. A tangled mass of skinless flesh, it was so mangled there was no real way to be certain.
Jesus, it was basically fresh too.
Tony had an unnatural green tinge to his normally tanned complexion, and he flashed a nervous smile at her when she glanced back at him
“Where’s Tim?”
“Hurling in the bathroom … permission to join him ma’am?”
“Denied, Chief Deputy.” Lyons backed away from the table. “What happened?”
“We were investigating a disturbance out at McKinnon’s bar. We arrived and were guided out back to the storage shed. We found the body behind it.” His face dropped. “Sheila, McKinnon’s is right on the edge of town.”
“I know.” Hyde mercifully covered the body back up. “What did this, Hyde?”
“I haven’t a clue. The lacerations are too sharp to be from any of the local predators, but he has been chewed extensively.”
“So, a cannibal with a knife?”
“No, the bite marks don’t match a human’s. I would say it is closest to a bear or mountain lion, given the sheer ferocity and strength needed to do the tearing damage that has occurred. But again, their teeth are not sharp enough and they don’t skin their prey before eating. I haven’t seen nor heard about anything like this.”
Lyons leaned against an empty operating table, the cold stainless steel easing her nerves. Tim stumbled in, pale and shaking. The bald spot on the top of his head was covered in sweat. His eyes drifted over to the sheet briefly, a green tint highlighting his cheeks.
Five years, and he was still a rookie.
Then again, no one in the room was handling this perfectly. Tony wasn’t talking – a sign of the apocalypse by itself. More importantly, though, was Doc Hyde. The old timer had seen a lot, even done a few stints in war-torn Africa. And he seemed agitated by what they were seeing.
Things were already simmering with the redneck gangs, disappearances, and loss of the mining contracts with this season. The mayor was up in full panic mode, and she couldn’t blame him. Tourist season was going to start in less than a month with every skier and snowshoe hiker in a three hundred mile radius coming out. The town’s economy couldn’t afford to lose the jolt they got from the winter, especially with the mines closing down again.
A couple families were already considering pulling out of town.
“Tim, go to the mayor’s place. Get his ass out of bed and have him phone in for some extra help. We need more men for this investigation.” He was up the stairs almost before she had finished talking. “Tony, interview McKinnon and the people at the bar.”
Giving a curt nod, he quickly left as well.
Waiting a moment to make sure they were gone, she leaned in closer to Hyde. He mirrored her actions. There had been a terrorist attack on the small town like hers out East a week ago. She had to make sure the same wasn’t happening here.
“Could a virus or something do this?”
Hyde shook his head slowly.
“Probably not, but I tested to be sure. The blood is clean and entirely normal. It was definitely a physical attack.” The old man moved away. “I’m out of ideas Sheriff. You may need to phone in an autopsy expert, but I’m fairly certain they will be just as stumped.”
“Alright, do you kno
w who this was?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Until you do, keep this quiet. I don’t want to see a max exodus from town. Lock the body in a cooler and ignore it until I say otherwise.”
Chapter
17
The Beetle consisted of three levels and spanned half the length of a football field. Shaped like the main body of its namesake, billions of nanoscopic wings created a hollow shell around the hull of the airship allowing wind to gather under them and provide added lift to the forty rotatable thrusters mounted on its belly.
The bottom level of the ship was divided between the vehicle hangar, armory, firing range, and engine room. The hangar housed an airlock that allowed for vehicles to be deployed while in air without compromising crew safety or requiring an evacuation of the bottom level every time a ship was sent out or returning.
Connected by three sets of stairs and four elevators, the second floor was devoted to crew quarters, including the private training room for Wolf’s team and the medical lab complete with a triage unit and quarantine. The third floor housed the captain’s chambers, mess hall, debriefing room, main deck, crew weight room, and gym.
The ship, designed in 2009 and completed two years later, was designed for stealth and speed. At Wolf’s request, special attention was given to provide comforts for the crew most ‘on the books’ divisions of the government did not receive.
It was speculated that much of the supposedly missing money from 08-09 bailouts was allocated to the project, and why the Fed refused to disclose its location to Congress.
* * *
Cale blew out harshly as he heaved his torso up towards his feet for the thirtieth time. His abs, becoming more defined by the day, burned from the strain. Touching his knees with his elbows, he allowed his body to drop and hang by his ankles. It had been almost a week since he arrived and those still sucked.
He placed his hands against the ground and relaxed his feet, letting them fall from the grip they were wedged into.