Chapter Forty-Eight
1388 Words
Several days later, Wolfdale City University Hospital, Room #526...
Beep. Bleep. Beep. Bleep. Beep. Bleep. The heart monitor clattered, keeping track of the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. Wheeze. Whirr. Wheeze. Whirr. Wheeze. Whirr. The ventilator worked hard to ensure that oxygen entered my lungs. Drip...Drip...Drip. The saline solution dripped its steady rhythm into my IV cannula. The faint noise of the television hummed so low as not to bother me. The soft quiet scampering of nurses, checking on my vital signs, made their way into my hospital room. No change. I’m not showing any signs of improvement, nor am I deteriorating either. I’m just stuck in a deep, dark limbo. Yay me. The soft skin from my mate’s hands gently touched my arm and held a tight grip on my hand. Her soft lips brushed kisses on my hand, but I couldn't respond to her touch. Darkness consumed my days and nights.
Drip...Drip...Drip...the sound of the saline solution turned into the sound of drips from the water downspouts from the back alleys of Wolfdale City. I find myself transported to a different time and place. I’m in my rookie blues back on my old beat chasing after my person of interest. However, this time feels different. I’m chasing like a predator, but I’m also being pursued like prey. I run hard in and out of the alleys. Darting here and there, chasing after and running away from what, I don’t know. I must keep going. The dark rain clouds cleared away to reveal a clear star-filled night over Wolfdale City. The Moon at her fullest shone her beautiful rays onto the city below. A wisp of a breeze blew through the buildings, pulling me deeper into the heart of the city. The neon lights reflected in the pools of water left on the sidewalks and roads as my foot would disrupt their patterns by splashing into them. After running for what seemed like an eternity, I made the final turn. I recognized my surroundings. It’s the alley behind a warehouse. The same one that years later, Avery Reynolds’ body, would be found. It’s there, however, that I slowly approach my person of interest. My Glock is drawn, ready to be fired if needed. I slowly inched my way closer down the dark alley. It’s a dead end. My person of interest has nowhere to run or hide. The same breezy wisp whooshed from behind me caused my vision to be blurred yet again. The image I saw before my eyes switched between me holding my Glock at my person of interest to my shooter holding their rifle onto me in my wolf form. My Glock is pointed at my POI. My shooter is pointing their rifle at me. Our fingers are on the trigger ready to squeeze...BANG!!!
I jolt from the noise coming from the television. I see that "Hawaii 5-0" is playing, figures. All the alarms from the machines begin to blare loudly, alerting the nursing staff to my new condition. I’m awake and begin to choke on the trachea tube that’s connected to the ventilator.
“Hang on, Mike, the nurses are coming,” Tiffeny gently reassured me. Her touch and voice calmed me down. “You’re awake,” she stated the obvious while giving me kisses in the palm of my hand. G-ddess, I love this woman. I brushed away a stray tear from her cheek.
Meanwhile, Wolfdale City Police Department...
“It’s plumage from a Struthio camelus,” Hanna gave Isaiah Barton her findings.
“A what?” he asked, blinking and trying to register the information.
“It’s an ostrich feather. They’re commonly used commercially, mostly for costumes.” She looked up from the microscope that was placed in a makeshift cubicle for her. Photos of Ze’ev’s wolf pack decorated the walls. She had not been able to spend as much time at the university as her uncle required her help with some forensic evidence. The police’s forensics is still backlogged from the recent discovery of a serial killing that’s being kept on the low-down, for now.
“Costumes. Great. Halloween is how many days away?” he stated in a sarcastic tone. “Thanks for your help, Miss Grimm. If I need any other help, I’ll find you.”
“I’ll be here,” she mumbled, turning to her laptop. She can still time stamp the videos.
Detective Barton and a couple of uniformed officers decided to follow up the lead and check out the pop-up Halloween costume stores in the city to see what they could find. It’s a long shot. There were strange boot prints found a little over one hundred feet away from where Micah went down. However, the smoking gun remains elusive.
“Don’t forget to get the statements from those that first attended to Sergeant Black,” he also reminded the officers. “There could be vital information.”
“Should we still follow the costume lead first? The pop-up stores won’t be around after Halloween,” one of the uniformed officers inquired.
Up in the Homicide division...
The Captain, Cassidy, George, and Roger were still sorting through every possible piece of evidence. This is definitely a strange case. But as always, too many questions and never enough answers. Roger, in his strange thinking, has grouped the victims into sections. Cass did say that his mind wouldn’t stop running. So his sections consisted of one board having all of Avery’s and Rhonda’s information, and the second one holding all the other victims’ information.
“Okay, Oren, explain this mapping to us,” Captain Winston inquired, trying to wrap his head around Roger’s warped thinking.
Clearing his throat, he began, “Well, first off, this is just a rough draft, so to speak. Things can get changed as more information and evidence is presented.”
“Well, get on with it, then,” Cass needled him, wishing she had popcorn.
“So, I stuck Avery and Rhonda on this board here. Because, even though their injuries are similar to the other victims, there’s still something different about them too.”
“Dude, you’re talking in circles,” George remarked to his partner.
“Okay, okay. Bear with me here,” he proceeded to explain more clearly. “If you look closely at the autopsy photos, you’ll see that Avery and Rhonda both have their ring fingers on their left hand intact. Whereas, the other victims are missing theirs,” Roger pointed out. “Weird, I know. Is it significant? I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It could mean something, or it could mean nothing. But, c’mon, this case is already weird. There’s a dude running around in a werewolf costume dumping bodies.”
“And, we don’t know if the costumed freak is the killer or not,” Cass just had to remind everyone. “Besides, that weird oddity, what other reasons for the separation?”
“I’m keeping that to myself, for now. I may change things after I research some more,” Roger sheepishly answered.
“Don’t keep us in the dark for too much longer,” Carlton Winston commanded Roger. “And Cass, we’re looking for a costumed “POI”, not a freak.”
“Right, there’s too many costumed freaks this time of year,” she giggled, accepting the correction. “With it being close to Halloween and all.”
“More like a costumed POS,” Roger muttered. All eyes turned on him after that remark.
“What?” he asked all innocently. “I just voiced what we’re all thinking.” George slapped him on the back of his head. Roger Oren, our resident pain in the ass.
Chief Fenton Edwards office...
Hanna begrudgingly took a seat at her uncle’s desk. The Chief was busy filling out bureaucratic paperwork for the wonderful Madam Mayor Jabberwocky while he waited for his niece’s arrival.
“You wanted to see me,” Hanna asked sheepishly.
“Your statement is needed for the case dealing with Sergeant Micah Black’s shooting,” he simply stated.
“How do you want me to fill it out? Do I leave out or put in the “whoo-whoo” stuff?”
“What whoo-whoo stuff?” he looked up at Hanna through his reading glasses.
- Writer
