The Fleck was beginning to wear off. Eckers leaned back against the alley wall, dreading the headache to come. Wherever B’ya got this stuff, it was great. He could still taste the metallic, sweet smoke in his mouth. He lit a cigarette and thought of Trinny. ‘She never could handle her Fleck.’ He thought.
He thought about the last time they made love. He could still smell the Fleck in her hair and taste the Anticipation on her lips when they kissed. She liked the stuff, and liked to mix too much.
It had been almost a week since he bolted from the apartment, leaving her there. He was sure the cops would be looking for him. It wasn’t his fault. The dumb bitch took too much. Worse yet, she took too much of his stuff and left him high and dry. Dumb bitch.
A can fell to the ground in the shadows at the far end of the alley.
Eckers stood up. “B’ya? Is that you?” He whispered loudly. “Man, that ain’t funny. Is that you?” No reply came. Eckers dropped his cigarette and smashed it under foot. There was another sound of falling garbage. Eckers took a few steps toward the noise. “I swear, B’ya, if you’re trying to freak me out, I’m going to kick your ass.” It was then Eckers saw two dim lights in the dark. They were low to the ground and bobbed gently. Then they appeared to blink. “What the hell?”
Eckers turned to run out of the alley. B’ya or not, this was too freaky, and it was completely killing whatever buzz he still had left. He heard a growl behind him and turned to see the lights fly at him.
Four sets of claws ripped through his clothes to the soft skin beneath. He clawed back for dear life. He didn’t have time to scream before the beast’s teeth sank into his throat and crushed his voice box. Then the beast reared back and tore Ecker’s throat out.
A few moments later, when the beast was gone, Ecker’s Fleck-tainted blood crept across the alley floor into the dark shadows of the Big City night.
Big City
“Autumn”
by Eric Schwartz
Stack Fury poured coffee into his travel mug. He put the pot back onto the burner and turned off the machine. On his way to the door he grabbed his keys and his badge. He clipped his badge onto his belt, put on his jacket and left the apartment. The crisp Big City morning was a welcome sight. From the top of the hill he could see the sun shining on the ocean, while most of the city still lay in the shadow of the mountains behind him. A glorious day.
Stack had been very lucky to find an apartment here, for what he made. The brownstone apartments that lined the hilly street, known as Banter’s Row, were usually expensive and always in demand. He figured that Teadum, his landlord, liked the idea of having a cop in the building and cut the price. Teadum seemed to fancy cops. Even after nearly three years he never addressed Stack as anything but “Sergeant.”
“Good Morning, Sergeant.” Teadum said, coming up the concrete steps to the front door. He carried a bucket of paint and a tool box.
Stack smiled. “Good morning, Teadum. You’re up early. Fixin’ to do some fixin’?” Stack chuckled.
Teadum never seemed to get jokes. That is to say, he never gave the correct response. They just seemed to move past him. He caught them, just never laughed. He made a sound like he was hacking up a popcorn hull. “Damn dogs.” He grumbled. Stack looked at him quizzically. Teadum nodded toward the front door and Stack turned around. The old door was wood with an etched glass center. Deep gouges were dug into the wood, all around the door handle and lock and along the bottom. “This is why I don’t allow freakin’ dogs.” Teadum blurted, dropping the paint and toolbox. “They’re murder on wood.”
Stack crouched down next to the door. The gouges were nearly as wide as his finger. “That’s some dog.” He scanned the door again and realized that the glass had also been scratched. Small strips of glass lined the scratches. The claws had dug fairly deep into the glass. “Sharp.” Stack mumbled.
“Hmm?” Teadum asked.
“Oh, I was just remarking at how sharp this dog’s claws must have been to cut into the glass like that.”
Teadum leaned in. “Aw! Dammit! I didn’t even see that. The whole thing will have to be replaced. Dammit. Hey, you’re a cop,” Teadum always began legal questions with that phrase. “If this thing comes back tonight, and I see it, can I shoot it?”
Stack stood up and sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a gun?”
There was a pause. Teadum finally nodded. “I got a license and everything. Ammo and gun on are on opposite ends of the apartment. I got one of them trigger lock things too. For when my ex brings the kids by. It’s all good.”
Stack smiled. He loved giving Teadum a hard time. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’re fine.”
“I even know how to shoot.”
Stack pulled his keys from his pocket, which was meant to indicate that he had to leave. “I think you’d be better off calling Animal Control.” Stack chuckled and headed to his car.
“You’re probably right.” Teadum said after him. Stack continued to his car. “Will they give me a report? Something I can give to my insurance? You know, so that I can get this door replaced?” Even though he had yelled the last part, Sergeant Forray got into his vehicle and pulled away. Teadum shrugged and figured Stack hadn’t heard him. ‘Cops got a lot their mind.’ He thought.
*
Needless Action splashed cold water on his face. He had no idea how he’d make it through that day. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible. He hadn’t slept in several days. He didn’t remember drinking anything the night before, but his headache spoke volumes. He pulled two paper towels out of the dispenser and dried his hands. He wanted to shout at Phillips and Squonk, as he was known, who were yukking it up at their lockers. His head throbbed every time they guffawed. Instead he glared at them.
Finally Squonk caught sight of him. “Damn! Needless, you look like crap. Rough night?”
“You finally making time with that nurse?” Phillips laughed.
Needless scowled and moved toward the door as the two continued to laugh. He mumbled between clenched teeth. “Medical Examiner. She’s a Medical Examiner.”
When he finally reached his desk, Stack had settled in and was chomping on a breakfast sandwich. The smell of the sandwich almost made Needless wretch. Stack took the last bite of his breakfast and wiped his hands.
“Morning, sunshine.” Stack said, reaching for his coffee. Needless gurgled a disgruntled greeting. Stack smiled to himself. “You never turned up at Tucker’s last night.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“It’s too bad. Charlie and Laura showed up and we were doing Swampland Shooters. Quite a night.”
Needless put his face in his hands. A Swampland Shooter was one part Moonglow, one part Goblin brandy and two parts Mistweed distillate, in a double tall shot glass with a dark beer chaser. Needless hated them in the first place. This morning he wanted to shoot Stack in the face for talking about them.
Stack decided to have mercy and changed the subject. “So, what happened?”
“I wish I knew. I did, however, wake up on the living room floor, completely naked, if that’s any indication of the kind of night I had.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, so, I might not be the cheerful guy I normally am. Just warning you.”
Stack just chuckled and turned on his computer. He scanned his email.
“Why doesn’t Smiles ever check his email?” Stack blurted.
“Because the guy lives in the past. Plus he’s not tied to that thing like you are. For once I agree with him. I hate email.” Needless finally sat up full. “Have you ever thought about getting some professional help for your addiction?”
Stack ignored the comment and continued reading the screen.
A few moments later Breen poked his head out of his office and bellowed across the squad room, making Needless’ teeth hurt. “Stack! Needless! We just got a lead on that OD case you guys are working on.” They looked up at him. “Your suspect, the boyfriend, just turned up in the city morgue.”
Needless threw his hands up in defeat. “Let’s roll, I guess.”
*
The morgue was as cheerful as always. It did, however, hold new luster for Needless since he and Sioux had started dating. She was in the middle of an autopsy, so Stack and Needless were taken to the body by an assistant ME. Ecker’s body was laid out on the examining table under a green sheet. The assistant pulled back the sheet. Needless almost passed out.
“As you can see, he was mauled to death. Looks like an animal. The estimated time of death is 2:15 AM. Some strong amounts of Fleck were found in his system.” The assistant said.
Stack leaned in to the body. “Anything under the fingernails?”
“Yeah, some tissue and hair. Between that and the adrenaline in his system, I think this guy was fighting for his life.”
Needless regained composure. “You think?” He blurted sarcastically. He leaned in to Stack. “Stack, I’m gonna start heaving on the recently departed if we don’t go soon.”
Stack put up his hand to quiet his partner. He then brought his hand down until it hovered just over the gouges in the stomach. He stood up and nodded to the assistant, who recovered the body. He turned to Needless and spoke in a hushed tone.
“I had gouges like this in the front door to my apartment this morning. Roughly the same size.”
Needless folded his arms. “We might be dealing with a pack.”
Stack rested his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. He turned back to the assistant ME. “Let me know when you get tests back on the tissue samples. You gonna do DNA?” The assistant nodded. “Let me know those too. You better send them to Sgt. Vleash in the Lycanthropy Division too.”
The assistant stood stunned for a moment. “Werewolves?” He stammered meekly. The two detectives turned to leave. As they walked out of the room into the hallway, the assistant heard the elf mumble, “I freaking hate werewolves.”
*
“Lycanthropy. Vleash.” He stated as he answered the phone. Sgt. Vleash sat back in his chair and grabbed the squeezy toy that rested atop his computer monitor. Vleash rolled his eyes as his preteen son’s voice blasted out of the phone.
“Dad! Tell Tara to give me the remote.”
Vleash sighed. “How the hell old are you two?”
“She won’t give me the remote. She’s watching that show you don’t want her watching!”
“I am not.” Vleash heard his daughter shriek in the background.
“Dad, she just switched it.”
Stack and Needless flopped down in the chairs across the desk from Vleash. Vleash again rolled his eyes and indicated to the two that it would only be a moment. Stack nodded. Things had definitely changed since the last time Stack had been here. The office was now in the basement, and nobody else seemed to be at their desks.
“All right.” Vleash finally said after a few moments of bickering from the phone. “Look. I’m going to unhook the damn thing and bring it to work with me if you two can’t stop arguing. The two of you need to work it out.”
“But dad…”
“Work it out, Bobby.” He snapped, hanging up the phone. “So what brings you two down here to the crotch of the police department?” He inquired, sitting up.
Stack looked around. “Just admiring your new pad. Everybody else call in sick?”
Vleash opened his arms to present himself. “You’re looking at the BCPD Lycanthropy Division.”
Stack’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”
“Do you know how many werewolf attacks we’ve had in the last 3 years? 5. That’s counting the one that turned out to be a lap dog that some boyfriend wanted dead. If I need help I contact special weapons and I work with a special investigator over at Animal Control. One of those freakin’ ‘interdepartmental synergies’ the city has been bragging about.”
“Well, add one more to your list.” Needless quipped.
“No kidding?” Vleash sat up. “What have you got?”
“Male. 19. He was this guy who’s girlfriend overdosed and he bolted. We were looking to pick him up, but they found him ripped to shreds in an alley last night.” Needless said.
“Weird thing is, Toby, I had nearly matching claw marks on the door to my apartment building this morning.” Stack said, leaning in. “I’m thinking a pack may have rolled in off the flats.”
“How far apart were the two incidents?”
“About 7 miles. It’s not inconceivable that the two could be the same werewolf, but I think it’s unlikely.”
Vleash shook his head in a way that didn’t give Needless much confidence. “Well, I’ll check out the body. And give me your address, I’ll sniff around there too. I’d say they should beef up patrols tonight, and the blues should keep their eyes open. I should have a chance to look at everything and work up a composite by this afternoon. I don’t want anybody blowing somebody’s dog away.”
*
By that night every patrol car in Big City had a rough sketch of what the wolf will probably look like, along with size specs. Once Vleash reported that the attack was, in fact, a werewolf attack, Commissioner Bledsoe gave a press conference in the main foyer of city hall.
“This was a lycanthropic incident and we will do everything in our power to protect the citizens of Big City. Detective Sergeants Toby Vleash, John D’yen and Adam Forray are handling the case along with Ron Kreiger from Animal Control. “ Bledsoe pointed to Laura Medrano who stood near the center of the crowd. “Yes, Laura.”
“Would a werewolf normally attack some one known to them? And could this lead to a suspect?”
“I will let Sgt. Vleash field that question, Laura.”
Vleash stepped to the microphone. “To answer your question, no. While some times the lycanthrope will attack a person known to what we call “The Host”, it is not standard. It is something we will investigate, but the odds are against the victim being known to the host. Our main concern is finding and subduing the creature or creatures. It is not our policy to destroy the animal on sight. Lycanthropy is an illness. This is a hunt and rescue operation. ” Vleash pointed to another reporter. “Yes?”
“You said ‘creature or creatures’. Is there a chance that there is more than one werewolf?” The reporter asked.
“We also have some physical evidence of a wolf presence several miles from the attack that may indicate more than one lycanthrope.” He nodded to another reporter.
Laura jotted her notes down quickly and scanned the foyer. Her gaze rested on Stack and Needless standing along the wall across the foyer. She broke away from the crowd and moved toward them.
Needless shifted on his feet as she approached. Stack half waved.
“Gentlemen.” She said.
Needless tensed. “No comment.”
Stack rolled his eyes. “Hi Laura. How are you feeling today?”
Laura shrugged. “This morning was a little rough. It’ll be a while before I do shooters again.” She chuckled. “Charlie looked like he’d be slapped around with a shovel.” She turned to Needless. “You never turned up.”
Needless continued to watch the press conference. “No comment.”
Stack smiled. “He’s in a mood. Just ignore him. Although, you do know we can’t discuss the case right now.”
Laura smirked. “What do you take me for? One of those sleezeporters from Channel 8?”
Stack smirked and looked back at the press conference. “Mmhhm.”
“Well,” Laura finally said after a pause, “this should have the everybody in town locked indoors tonight.”
“We do need to tell people.” Needless said emotionlessly. “It helps to keep them safe.”
Laura turned at looked at him. “How safe is it when you have half the city roaming the streets, armed to the teeth, looking to kill this thing?”
Needless finally broke his gaze at the podium and looked at her. “I couldn’t care less. This “humane” policy is ridiculous. I saw that guy today. Nothing remotely human could do that and there is no proof that the treatments work. Kill it.”
Laura looked back at the podium. “You’re all heart, Needless.”
Needless chuckled. It was the first funny thing he’d heard all day.