The Predator and The Prey Page 9

  The priest nodded and left without saying a word. I watched him fade into the fog with Toby following him.

  My comm buzzed. Markeson again I assumed. I decided to answer this time and give him a little attitude to make myself feel better. The number was Josephson’s.

  SHE CAREFULLY OBSERVED from the rooftop, making certain she was out of the line of view of the CCTV cameras. The tall man with the ugly facial scar was clearly in charge. The other cops were a little leery of him and kept a watch on him out of the corner of their eyes.

  It saddened her to know under the white cloth was a little girl. A skilled thief, the dead girl had tried to steal a bottle of clean water from her only to be caught. Skilled she might have been, but not good enough.

  The screams she’d heard had to have been when the little girl met her end. The sobbing though, that had to come from someone else.

  Someone still alive.

  Sarah brushed a long lock of brown hair from her face. She wanted to tell the tall cop but he terrified her. Terrified he would send her away. Back to him and that was something she couldn’t risk.

  He’d spotted her on the St. Gabriel and she knew it. When he'd approached her at Joe's Sarah was positive he knew it was her and he was going to arrest her. Sarah stood up and looked around quickly to make sure nobody was looking up.

  She decided to think about it. Maybe there was a way to tell the tall cop what little she knew without having to meet him. She'd seen the dead girl with an older girl who looked similar like an older sister would. Sarah was confident the sister was who she'd heard sobbing.

  In complete silence Sarah made her way to the back of the building and slipped over the retaining wall, lowering her slender form down the service ladder one rung at a time. Reaching the bottom, she dropped carefully to the asphalt below and slipped away into the melting fog.

  WE’D MANAGED TO CLEAR the crime scene by the time shift change started. People were filling the streets as the fog began to burn off with the rising of Beta Prime’s sun. Perhaps we’d have a warm spell today.

  But then again, probably not.

  I waited, stewing in anger for Josephson to arrive in a hover unit. It was bad enough catching this murder in the middle of the night. Now my puppy of a Sergeant was rambling on about some strange man who insisted he would only talk to me and that we only had a few hours left to contact him.

  With the processing of the crime scene complete and Lucy's body transported to the morgue for an autopsy, there was nothing more I could do for the dead girl at the moment. I'd taken all the images I wanted with my cybernetic eye. Bland was now properly motivated to do a thorough canvass of the area.

  Until the initial grunt work got done, I figured I had enough time to have a big, hot breakfast and then I'd sort Josephson out about this stranger who insisted he talk to me and nobody else. I figured breakfast would probably be the only meal I would eat today.

  I was right.

  THE TOTAL DARKNESS frightened Anna. The complete lack of sound made her dark prison even more terrifying. Try as she might, Anna could not block out the images of her little sister bleeding profusely in the dark, fog-laden alley, her life's blood spurting out in pulses.

  Sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms around her legs, Anna rocked back and forth. Her cheeks, covered with dirty tear tracks, were dry. Anna had no more tears to cry, for her sister or herself.

  In her solitude, Anna grew angry with Lucy and her greed. She felt guilty as well. As Lucy’s older sister Anna should not have relented to the pressure from the younger sister. She sighed in frustration. How could they have known how dangerous the mark was?

  It was cold in the dark room. The cold didn’t bother Anna. The silence did. It seemed to wrap itself around her, slowly tightening its grip on her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs. With each breath Anna drew, the silence pressed even harder. So hard did it press, she began to labor to breathe as her anxiety and fear increased.

  Anna had no illusions that she was going to survive her encounter with the monster who had killed Lucy and spirited her away to its lair. Nobody would miss two young girls from the street. Nobody who could do anything about their deaths. Anna thought of Toby and wished she’d not listened to Lucy. Toby was sweet on her and she liked the cocky leader of their band of child pickpockets. Toby would have taken care of her when they grew into adulthood. He was smart enough to go straight, just maybe, and take care of her like a regular person.

  Footsteps in the distance broke the dreadful silence, each step measuring the steady approach of the monster. Anna knew it was the monster. It was returning to the lair to have its way with her.

  COUGHING SOUNDS FILLED the quarantine unit. One of the miners was straining with effort as he coughed, sitting up partially in his bed, his face contorted in pain. A glance at the monitor on the screen outside the quarantine unit told the nurse he'd taken a turn for the worse. His fever was higher by a degree; his pulse was thready and white blood cell count was skyrocketing. The bacteria were overwhelming the antibiotic she’d administered.

  The second miner watched in alarm as his friend struggled to breathe while the nurse hurriedly slipped into a quarantine suit and entered the unit.

  “Do something please,” the second miner pleaded.

  A quick check of his eyes told the nurse the story of what was happening. The disease was progressing throughout the miner’s body, impacting more and more organs. The miner’s eyes were changing color. The white of his eyes was turning a bright orange as the infection progressed.

  If the meds didn’t do their work and soon, he would move into the final, and fatal stage of the cough.

  A sudden spasm wracked the patient’s body, causing him to cough hard enough to lift his torso off the bed. Flecks of blood splattered on his chest and the blankets as the nurse injected painkillers and additional meds to fight the inevitable.

  The spasm passed and the miner collapsed back on the bed, gasping for air as his face grew pale. His eyes closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.

  “He’s going to die isn’t he,” the second miner asked sadly.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t,” the nurse lied.

  She drew blood samples and slipped them into the pocket of her quarantine suit. She checked the vitals of the dying miner one more time and moved to the side of the second miner, giving his vitals a quick check.

  “Don’t worry about your friend. You need to rest and let your body fight the infection. Even with the antibiotic and other meds, your body has a role to play in this. Your immune system needs you to rest so it can focus on fighting this thing, okay?”

  The frightened miner nodded and closed his eyes. Relieved he was cooperating, the nurse reached into another pocket and withdrew a syringe filled with sedative. Taking the port in the IV line, she administered it quickly, allowing the stricken miner to drift off into a drug induced slumber.

  She left the quarantine room and hurriedly disrobed before stepping into the disinfecting chamber. Samples in hand, the nurse hurried to compare the blood she’d drawn with her earlier results.

  “WHERE’S SULLIVAN?”

  The detectives working at their desk flinched at the sound of Markeson bellowing from the door of his office?

  "He's not here Captain," one of the detectives shouted back, hoping to appease the angry boss. The sound of Markeson's door slamming generated sighs of relief from the various detectives.

  “Glad I’m not the new Inspector,” the detective who had answered muttered as he returned to his task.

  In his office, Markeson paced back and forth. He sat down and clicked the mouse to his computer. He watched in alarm again as the video clearly depicted a shift foreman from the Schlesinger Number Two mine walking into the detective's bullpen. He watched as the beat cop left the man talking with Josephson. Despite the lack of sound, it was obvious the mine foreman was leaving a message. That message had to be for Sullivan.

 
; Markeson opened the bottom drawer of his desk and reached inside and felt for the comm attached to the bottom of the top drawer in the far back. He pulled out the device, an encrypted comm and typed in a number. Markeson held the comm up to his ear and listened, waiting for an answer to his call. A clicking sound followed by a few seconds of static before the signal cleared told Markeson the link had gone through.

  “Why have you called me? I’ve told you not to call me during the day.”

  “I called because that idiot may have messed things up.”

  A pause told Markeson he was not going to be in trouble for calling.

  “How so?” the voice replied.

  “A foreman from Mine Number two showed up. He left a message for Sullivan.”

  “Sullivan?” the voice snapped.

  “Yeah. Mine Number Two is the one that missed a month’s supply of preventative.”

  Silence filled the link as the voice thought.

  “Keep tabs on this Sullivan. I want to know if he sticks his nose anywhere he shouldn’t. I’ll look into what’s going on at the mine.”

  “What if Sullivan sticks his nose somewhere it shouldn’t be?”

  Silence filled the link again.

  “Make it look like an accident. Can you do that?”

  Markeson felt a thrill at the words. He’d hated Sullivan the minute he’d first laid eyes on the troublesome inspector.

  “Yeah. I can do that. But it’s going to mean a bonus in my next payday.”

  "If it comes to that, I'll see to it you get an appropriate reward," the voice replied. The link closed, ending the conversation.

  Markeson leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. It would be better for all concerned if he could steer Sullivan away from anything doing with the mine. If not, well, then Sullivan would get what he had coming to him.

  "SO LET ME GET THIS straight. Nobody was in the bullpen and this guy just wanders in. Says he needs to talk to a detective, doesn't like the way you look and gives you his number and says he will only speak to me?"

  “That’s pretty much it inspector,” Josephson replied.

  “Sounds fishy.”

  “No, I guess he has a point,” the puppy replied, sounding sad with his tail between his legs. “I’m pretty green and I’m starting to realize just how much.”

  I put my fork down and pulled down my HUD in my cybernetic eye. The chronometer read 0911. Plenty of time.

  “Well let’s get this over with. It’ll be at least 1100 hours before we get anything from the lab on the dead girl and the canvass. Let me see the number.”

  Josephson passed the small scrap of paper over as I pulled out my comm. I typed in the comm number and waited.

  “Who is this?”

  “Thomas Sullivan.”

  “Yeah. I guess that young guy told you I need to talk to a cop.”

  “He conveyed the message.”

  “Look, I need to see you soon, before 0200.”

  “Sir, I don’t know you. And to be honest, I have other things to do.”

  "I get it; truly, I do Sullivan. But lots of people are going to die if we don't meet up."

  I laughed. The guy sounded like a nut job, a real nutter.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because two of my crew are in the quarantine unit at the infirmary of the Schlesinger Corporation Mine Number Two.”

  He had my attention now.

  “Okay, you have my attention. Now tell me why I should be worried.”

  “Because somebody is doing something with our preventative meds.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FATHER NATHAN WATCHED as Toby picked at the hot breakfast that had gone cold. He glanced out the window and watched the passers-by hurry along in the cold. The sun had made its appearance and burned off the fog. The horrible morning had changed into a beautiful day.

  “It’s not right,” Toby grumbled.

  “No, it’s not,” Father Nathan replied.

  “Lucy was just a kid.”

  “You’re just a kid.”

  Toby’s eyes snapped upwards while his face remained pointed down in the direction of his plate. His expression was grim, filled with a rage fighting to break loose.

  “I’m the man in our group. The oldest. I should have been there to protect them. Lucy would be alive and Anna wouldn’t be missing.”

  Father Nathan remained silent. Nothing he could say or do would stop Toby from blaming himself for the death of Lucy and the disappearance of Anna.

  “Who else is in your group?”

  Toby sat up and looked directly at the priest.

  “Why should I tell you? You’re friends with the cop, the one with the cut up face.”

  “Yes, I am. But that’s not why I’m asking. You and your friends need a safe place to sleep at night. At least until the monster who hurt Lucy is caught. My parish has a dormitory that's not currently in use. You could bring your friends there at night. It's nothing special but it would be warm enough."

  “I don’t trust you,” Toby snapped defensively.

  “I understand. But why should I trust you? I’ll be letting a band of thieves onto Church property. You could steal from the parish.”

  Toby considered Father Nathan’s words for a moment.

  “I don’t know. You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. How do I know you won’t turn us in to the cops or do something worse than our boss?”

  Father Nathan sighed aloud. “I’m a priest. I know people often don’t trust religious people these days and I understand why. But know this Toby, my vows require me to serve those in need. It is what God expects of me. You and your friends are in need and I have the ability to help you, at least for a short time.”

  The pair stared at each other. A standoff of sorts had been reached.

  “Look, how can I reach you?”

  “What for,” Toby asked.

  “In case Inspector Sullivan has questions that could help him catch the monster who killed Lucy.”

  Toby thought for a moment before replying. “I know where your Church is. Put a square of red plastisteel on the front door and I’ll find you.”

  “Okay,” Father Nathan replied as he stood up to leave. Toby watched as the priest went to the register and paid the bill for their meals. The older man waved goodbye and left. Pausing on the sidewalk outside the window of their booth, the priest turned up the collar of his black greatcoat, shoved his hands in his pockets before looking both ways and crossed the street. Turning toward the north, he slowly made his way toward the Church, his shoulders hunched and his head down.

  Confused and hurting inside, Toby considered the man’s offer. The boss man would not be back until payday at the end of the week. Surely the dorm the priest had offered would be warmer than the empty warehouses and abandoned buildings Toby and his crew slept in.

  Tears ran down his face unnoticed. It would be safer for the little ones. He’d make sure the priest couldn’t get in the dormitory and hurt them. It wouldn’t hurt to try it for one night. He would arrange a watch schedule so one of them would always be awake.

  Toby looked around Joe's. Everyone was busy with the still full restaurant. Resisting the urge to lift a wallet or a watch or two, Toby slipped out unnoticed onto the streets.

  I RUBBED THE BRIDGE of my nose with my right hand before running my index finger down the scar on my face.

  "I'm driving next. Give me the key," I demanded. Josephson looked hurt but complied and handed over the small, black square that controlled the start-up system for the hover car. I pocketed it and got out of the unit and looked around. Josephson had parked us near the administrative buildings at Schlesinger Corporation Mine Number Two.

  I walked slowly toward the entrance, taking in as much as I could. Several men who by their dress and dirty appearance seemed to miners who’d finished their shift and were hanging about watched me as I approached. One of the miners pulled his hands
out of his pockets and took a couple of steps toward me, a grim expression on his face.

  “You a cop?”

  I stopped and stared at the man, giving him a hard look. He swallowed but held his ground.

  “What if I am?” I growled.

  “Just askin’. We don’t see cops around here.”

  “Where’s the infirmary?”

  “You here to check on Jamaal and Karl?”

  “No. I’m here to meet someone in the infirmary. Now, would you mind pointing me in that direction?”

  I took a step toward the miner and leaned into his personal space in a deliberate effort to make him feel uncomfortable. This time he took a step back and glanced over his shoulder at his friends.

  “I’ll take you, but you’re going to have to get a pass at the entrance. They don’t give those out to strangers.”

  “They’ll let me in. Just show me the way.”

  He nodded and turned toward the main entrance where armed guards waited. I glanced over my shoulder and motioned for Josephson to follow. The miner hurried toward the gate, not looking back. I walked slowly, glaring first at his friends who were still huddled together against the shelter of the wall of one of the buildings on the perimeter. When I passed them I changed my focus to the waiting guards.

  I could hear the miner trying to explain things to the guards who showed no indication of listening to the man. I ignored the first guard and walked past only to be held up by the business end of a phase rifle.

  “Nobody enters without clearance,” the guard said firmly.

  I didn’t say a word. I reached into my greatcoat and pulled out my ID and held it up where he could easily read it.

  “Inspector Thomas Sullivan.”

  “So. You ain’t a mine inspector and you ain't from the planet's mine administration, so you ain't goin' in. Now, I don't want any trouble with you Inspector. So just leave. If you have business inside the plant, come back with an inspector or someone from the mine administration."