Read With Silent Screams Online

Authors: Steve McHugh

With Silent Screams (4 page)

CHAPTER
4

R
oberto had gone by the time I left the bar, and taken his Mustang with him. Fortunately, as I was leaving, Rebecca had thrown me the keys to a 1976 Plymouth Trailduster, which turned out to be bright red and was probably big enough to be its own moving house. Still, it was better than walking the 1
50-odd
miles to Stratford. I threw the bag onto the backseat and climbed inside.

The journey took a few hours. The snow and ice on the roads made driving at speed dangerous, and when it started to snow heavily, my movement dropped to a crawl. By the time I reached the small town of Stratford, it was dark.

The roads were relatively abandoned, the weather and time of night combining to keep people inside, but I passed several open fields and some farmland that gave the town a picturesque look. Once in the town itself, it looked like the kind of place that gets put on postcards for tourists. Unfortunately, as I made my way through the town, the thoughts of a group of murders operating out of there dampened my enthusiasm for the place.

The police station was a large building, considering the “
Welcome
to Stratford” sign had said it had a population of only 9212 people. There were six patrol cars out front, and the rapidly falling snow had covered them in a thick layer of whiteness.

I parked the Trailduster on the street and immediately wished I could use my fire magic to keep me warm as I dashed to the front door of the building. Once inside, I reveled in the warmth that washed over me.

I glanced around, noting the elevator to the far left and stairs just next to it, alongside two closed doors, although I was in the wrong place to read what was on the nameplates attached t
o them.

“Can I help you?” a surly-looking cop asked from behind the desk in front of the door. I noticed from the three inverted chevrons on his shoulder that he held the rank of sergeant. He drummed the tip of his pen against the wooden counter and did not appear happy to see me.

“I’m here to see William Moon,” I said.

“The detective know you’re coming?”

I nodded. “Apparently.”

“And you are?”

“Nathan Garrett.”

He scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “Sign here.” He placed a book in front of me, with a pen tied to the spine. I flicked to the front cover and found it was a visitors’ log.

“You going to read the whole thing, or just do as I asked?”

I filled in my name and who I was there to see, but left my address blank.

“You need to put something in there.”

“I’ve just gotten to town; I don’t live anywhere at the moment.”

The desk sergeant shook his head and mumbled something about out-of-towners that I chose to ignore. He wrote “no fixed abode” on the page and slammed the book shut. “Second door down the hallway.” He pointed in the direction, presumably just in case I got lost on the thirty-foot walk. “Second door.”

“Thanks,” I said with as cheerful a tone as I could manage and set off in the direction.

“Second door,” the sergeant called after me.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” I called back. Sometimes I can’t help myself.

I didn’t wait for a response and opened the second door, letting it shut behind me as I entered the short gray corridor beyond. There was one door on my left, with the word stationery written on it, and another door in front of me, which led to a sizeable open-planned office space.

Two men and a woman all sat in silence, each of them at their own desk, either reading something or typing on a typewriter. A glass office with the word
Captain
stenciled onto the door sat at the far end, but it was dark inside, its occupant clearly gone home for the day.

The woman, a youngish brunette with a small button-like nose, on top of which sat her equally small glasses, asked, “Can we help you?”

“I’m looking for Detective Moon,” I said.

She pointed to a desk at the far end of the office where a man turned around to look at me. “Detective Moon?” I surmised.

“And you are?” he asked, standing up. He was easily a foot taller than me, and also much wider, with the build of someone who regularly worked out. As I got closer, I noticed the nasty scar just above his cheek. It stretched to his ear and was jagged enough for me to think it was probably the result of broken glass, maybe a bottle, rather than a knife. The words “Semper Fi” were tattooed on his right forearm, just below the rolled-up sleeves of his light-blue shirt.

“Nathan Garrett,” I said, offering my hand.

William took the hand in a comfortable shake. You can tell a lot about a man from his handshake. Is it too firm, too loose, does he try to overcompensate for something by trying to crush your hand in return? William didn’t go for the crush, not that he would have succeeded. He was more likely to have lost the hand for good, but it was nice to know I was dealing with a grown-up.

“I got a call telling me to expect you.” He started patting his pockets and removed some cigarettes. “Let’s go outside, I need
a smoke.”

As we both left the building, I smiled at the desk sergeant and stood outside in the cold while Bill fumbled with a cigarette.

“You want one?” he asked, offering me the packet.

“No, thanks.”

He gave me a “please yourself” expression and finally got one lit, taking a long drag before breathing it out. “So, you’re here on the behalf of Galahad.”

“I’m here to find Simon Olson and stop him and his friends from murdering people. I was told that you were dealing with the case.”

Detective Moon took another drag, making me wait for his response. “That’s right. Galahad has given me instructions to hand Simon over to him once the case is solved. But someone is going to pay for those murders, and if that means his friends get to see the inside of a jail cell instead of him, then I’m okay with that.”

“Simon will see the inside of a place worse than any jail you can imagine,” I said.

“I spent eighteen months in Vietnam, I can imagine a shitload of bad things.”

“You were a Marine,” I said.

“Yeah, left the corps in seventy-three. Moved here and became a cop. I had a nice quiet life until about four months ago, when the first body showed up.”

“How many have there been?”

“Officially? Four. Unofficially? At least a dozen.”

“Why the discrepancy?”

“Most of the people are still missing; we’ve only found four bodies, so that’s the official count. It’s lucky the captain works for Galahad, too, otherwise the FBI would have been called in. Serial killer cases in a rural town like this, we don’t usually have the manpower to solve them.”

“Do you know where Simon or any of his friends are?”

William shook his head. “Up near Mount Bigalow is our best guess, although I can’t say more than that. The four bodies were found all around the same area. I figure we wait till daylight and then go hunting.”

“Anyone else know why I’m here?”

“Captain told everyone you were a external consultant to help bring the killer to justice. People around here are wary of newcomers, but you’ll find them friendly enough when they decide you’re not here to piss them off. The captain and me are the only two who know who you are.”

“Good, that should make things easier.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” William took a key from his pocket and passed it to me. “There’s a motel about a half-mile down the road. Your room is already booked. Do you have anything with you?”

“A bag with a few bits of clothing and a toothbrush, but nothing that’s going to last long.”

“There’s a clothes shop nearby. We’ll get you sorted out in the morning. Can’t have you traipsing around the woods and not looking the part.”

“Thanks,” I said and flicked the red leather key ring over, showing the number 4 in gold.

William walked me back to my truck. “Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

We shook hands once more and I climbed into the
Trailduster
and started the massive engine. The possibility that there were twelve victims made my skin crawl, and made me wonder what the hell was going on in this small Maine town with its
picturesque
scenery.

I drove to the motel, which was easy to find due to the number of lights it had on the front, and after making myself known to the overweight, balding man at the reception desk, I found my room and dumped my bag on the freshly made bed.

The room was small, but well kept. A small bedroom, with a door that led to a small bathroom with a shower and toilet. The bedroom had a nice desk, a bedside table, chest of drawers, and small TV. I put my clothes away, then glanced out the window, which overlooked the woods behind the motel. For the briefest of moments I thought I saw movement just inside the end of the tree line.

As soon as I’d convinced myself it was a trick of the ever-increasing wind, it happened again. There was no mistaking that there was definitely someone there.

I threw my coat and shoes back on and stepped outside, making my way around the side of the motel complex to where I’d seen the movement. But by the time I arrived, whoever, or whatever, had been there was nowhere to be found. So, after searching for a few more minutes, and finding nothing of
interest
, I made my way back to the motel room.

Before I’d even stepped inside, I knew something was wrong; the door was unlocked. I stood to one side of the entrance and pushed open the door with one hand, readying a ball of fire in the other. The room was empty, but someone had been there. And they’d left me a gift. They’d used a dagger to pin a piece of paper to the wall. I stepped inside the room and made the fireball vanish, pulling the dagger out a second later and catching the paper as it fell.

The dagger was called a misericorde—a long, thin, edgeless blade used in medieval times to kill a knight in full amour. The blade was thin enough to slip between the plates or get in between the eye slots on a helmet. It was widely used for mercy killings, to end the suffering of those who were too injured to be helped. I knew of several assassins throughout the years who had used one to kill someone in one-on-one combat. I hadn’t seen one quite like it in several centuries, but it appeared to be new. I dropped the dagger on the bed and picked up the note.
You’ll find no mercy here. Leave.

Apparently I was making new friends already.

CHAPTER
5

New York City, New York. Now.

“S
o, do you feel like sharing how you know who’s behind this?” Sky asked as we both left the bathroom and re-entered the main room of the penthouse suite.

I was about to speak when I heard someone trying the door handle. I motioned for Sky to follow me into the main bedroom, keeping the door open just enough to see as someone in a dark hoodie entered the suite and made their way to where the body of Jerry lay.

“It’s a woman,” I said when the door to the second bedroom closed.

“Pervert.”

“Yes, clearly that’s why I know it was a woman. The skintight trousers sort of gave it away, as did the fact that she has breasts under that black hoodie. We should go say hello; how do you want to take this?”

Sky opened the bedroom door and sauntered into the middle of the penthouse suite, taking a seat on one of the expensive couches, opposite the door to the second bedroom.

I knew the routine and crouched behind a glass cabinet next to the door, so that whoever the mystery guest was, she wouldn’t see me when the door was opened. The idea was simple. They come out, see Sky and either their attention is taken for just long enough for me to grab or subdue them. Sky and I had used it before to great effect. It was simple and relatively low risk for
all involved.

The woman walked out of the bedroom and saw Sky sitting cross-legged on the sofa with a smile on her face. I was about to move when the woman crouched down and suddenly the wooden floor beneath me was no longer solid. It jumped up, grabbing my ankles and wrists and pinning me in place, solidifying into something much stronger than it had been before. Sky was already moving when the ground beneath her did the same, but instead of keeping her in place, it flung her into the far wall, which enveloped her legs and arms so that only her torso and head was free.

“Fucking bitch,” Sky snapped, trying to free herself. “What the fuck is this shit?”

“Alchemy,” I said and the woman’s head snapped toward me.

A second later, she was up from her couched position, sprinting through the door.

“Come back here,” Sky shouted, full of rage at her situation.

I threw a blade of air magic from one hand, into the wood that held the opposite wrist. It was a tricky maneuver—too close and I’d have sliced through my wrist—and it took me three attempts, but I managed to cut through the bonds of wood and dropped to the ruined floor.

“Go get her,” Sky shouted. “I’ll be fine.”

I took after the alchemist at a sprint, making it through the door maybe a minute after her. The illuminated numbers above the lift said that it was still near the lower floors, so I ruled that out as an escape route. That left only the stairwell, which I blasted open with a jet of air; I didn’t want to get jumped by anyone waiting. I stepped through the door and heard the bang of a door above me.

I took the stairs two at a time until I’d cleared the three flights and reached the only door above me: the entrance to the roof.

The wind was freezing cold, and it had started to rain as I opened the door and stepped onto the roof. It contained a mass of metal pipes, air conditioning units, and a variety of electrical equipment that supplied a lot of power to the hotel. The mass of steel meant that the winds, which had been biting at ground level, had some of their sting taken out of them.

Across the large rooftop stood my target. She was glancing over the side of the hotel at a smaller building a hundred feet away, too preoccupied to hear as I crept toward her. Once within a good distance, I created six tendrils of air, which moved toward the woman until they’d wrapped silently around her ankles and calves. By the time she noticed what was happening it was too late and I’d hardened the air into a substance easily as strong as the steel that littered all around me.

She screamed as I pulled back, causing her to drop to the ground. She slammed her hands onto the concrete roof, and I found myself falling back as the roof bucked in an attempt to get me to release my magic.

“I don’t want a fight,” I told her.

“Yeah, says the man who just threw magic at me.”

“Point taken.” Not everyone who isn’t a sorcerer can identify magic when it’s used against them. She’d clearly had some run-ins with magic users in the past. I released the magic and put my hands up. “Okay, I just want to talk.”

The roof stopped doing its impression of a bucking bronco and allowed me to stand up.

“Talk,” the woman said.

“You plan on keeping the balaclava on, or do I actually get to see your face?”

“Get on with it,” she snapped.

“Who are you? And why were you in that hotel room?”

“If I’m not going to remove the balaclava, I’m not going to tell you my name. And that last part is none of your business.”

Her green eyes held a determined expression, and her tone suggested that she wasn’t used to having to explain herself.

“My name is Nathan Garrett,” I told her, hoping that she might give me something to work with in return.

“Is that meant to mean something?” she asked after I’d paused for a second.

Apparently not, which was probably for the best. It meant she wasn’t with Avalon, nor any of the major players who worked with them. “No, I was just hoping you’d return the courtesy. My friend and I were here looking for the murderers of a cop in Ottawa, a friend of mine. I’m doubting that you were involved. They were more

chatty.”

“I’m sorry for your friend, but like you said, it had nothing to do with me.”

“His name was Bill Moon,” I told her and instantly noticed something in her eyes, a brief recognition.

“I’m going now.”

“How did you know him?” I demanded, feeling my barely concealed anger at his murder begin to bubble up inside me.

“I don’t feel like being questioned by someone who attacked me in a hotel room.”

“You’re going to answer my questions,” I told her. “You don’t want to do this the hard way.”

She laughed, which was something I wasn’t exactly expecting. “I’ve been threatened by bigger and badder people than you.”

“Trust me when I say this: I doubt that very much.”

She placed her hands on the three-foot wall that ran around the edge of the roof. With an almighty creak, the part she was touching extended outward, using the concrete around it to create a two-foot-wide bridge to the nearest building. It was instantaneous; I’d barely had time to register what she was doing, let alone move to stop her.

“That’s very impressive,” I said as the woman stood up on the roof and took the first step onto the bridge. “But it won’t stop me from getting the answers I need.”

“That will.” She pointed to my feet, and I looked down to find that the roof had solidified over my shoes, holding me in place. I struggled as the roof exploded up, covering my arms and shoulders, dragging me down onto all fours and forcing my hands inside the concrete of the roof itself.

Before I could get myself free, she sprinted across the
hundred
-foot bridge, which was sucked back into the hotel the moment she stepped off of it.

Once she was out of sight, the roof moved aside, allowing me to stand up without issue just in time for Sky to come crashing through the door.

“Where the fuck is she?”

“Over here,” I said as the last remains of the bridge returned to the building.

“Well, where is she?”

“She used the roof to create a bridge to that building over there and then ran across it and got away.”

“You let her escape?”

“Not exactly.” I explained about the roof.

“So, we have nothing.”

I shook my head. “We have two things. One, she knew who Bill was, although she didn’t kill him. Two, she could have killed me—I wasn’t exactly on top of my game up here. But she came here for some reason or another.”

“You think that dead body wasn’t just a message for us?”

I nodded. “Maybe, yeah. That could mean that Bill was working with her on an investigation. It seems a bit too much of a coincidence that Bill’s murderers lead us to a hotel where we meet someone who knew him.”

“Or it could mean that we’re being played with, the same as her, by a bunch of psychotic assholes.”

“There’s that. But if Bill was looking into something, and the writing of the bathroom wall suggests a link between Bill and his killers that could be very bad indeed, then I don’t have a lot of choice about my next destination.”

“And what does it mean?”

“That I have to go to Maine.”

Sky was silent for a few heartbeats. “You know I can’t go wit
h you.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be alone there, that’s dangerous. And whoever this woman is, she’s capable. She kicked your ass.”

“Thanks for the reminder. You got stuck in a wall.”

“Okay, we’ll call that even.” Sky chuckled. “My point still stands, it could be dangerous there.”

“I’ve been alone before, and I know precious few people who aren’t linked with one group or another. Shadow Falls will never allow more outsiders to go snooping around.”

“Call Tommy. He’s independent these days.”

Tommy and I had been friends for centuries and had worked together many times. But he had a family now, and I was hesitant to fly him across the planet on the possibility that there could be trouble I couldn’t handle alone. Still, if I didn’t call and he found out, I’d only have to hear him complaining about it for a few
centuries
. “I will, although I’m not sure he’d be much help either. By the time he gets here—”

“Just do it. I guess I’m going to have to go back and tell Dad that this is no longer something we can look into.”

“There’s still plenty to do. You’ve got a dead cop who works for you, and someone gave the psychotic bastards who killed Bill my number. I’d put money that whoever it is, they’re playing a dangerous game.” And one I was sure Sky would take great pleasure in seeing they lose.

“I assume you don’t want to fly to Portland?” Sky asked.

“Not if I can manage it, no.”

“I have an acquaintance in town who’d be able to set you up with something, probably some weapons, too. For a price.”

“Is this going to cost me a fortune?”

Sky’s sly smile was usually reserved for the moments she thought I’d be out of my comfort zone. “Something like t
hat, yeah.”

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