Chapter 19: Going Home_The Scarlet Jane Files

The home is lonely. Abandoned. Sectioned off by do not cross tape. Even three weeks later, it is still considered a crime scene and is still being monitored by a policeman who appears unwilling to leave the property.

 “Why is it still considered a crime scene?” I ask. “Shouldn’t it have been closed off by now?”

 “I’m unsure,” Shadow replies, though he frowns not long after. “Perhaps local Wipers have maintained the facade that there was a more recent crime—to ensure that we would be able to come back and properly investigate.”

 “I guess that make sense,” I say as Shadow pulls up alongside the curb. “But how are we going to get past him?”

 “I’ll wipe him,” Shadow replies as the policeman lifts his head from his sandwich to consider us. “It isn’t that difficult a procedure.”

 “What if someone else sees us? You know… like a neighbor?”

 “Then I’ll wipe them as well.” He opens the door, steps out of the car, then says, “Please. Follow me.”

 I exit the car slowly, cautiously, and with hesitation I know is born out of the innate fear of being discovered. I am unsure if the policeman will wait until we start toward my home to approach, and as such, I step forward nervously. Shadow, on the other hand, advances up the driveway without so much as an ounce of reservation.

 “Sir!” the policeman calls as he exits his vehicle. “This residence is an active crime scene. Please stop before I have to—”

 Shadow extends a hand.

 I watch the man’s face go blank.

 “You never saw me,” the Wiper says, “nor my companion.”

 “I never saw you,” the policeman replies. “Neither of you.”

 “Good.” Shadow nods. “Return to your business now, please.”

 I watch the policeman crawl back inside his cruiser and pick up his sandwich, all the while struggling to breathe.

 “Holy shit,” I finally manage to gasp. “I thought we were done for.”

 “You have that little faith in me?” Shadow counters.

 “Well, no. It’s just, they’re cops, and, well—” I stumble to a stop. “Sorry. You just get to hearing certain stories, and you think—”

 “I understand,” Shadow says before gesturing me up the drive.

 We step around the rock garden my mother had spent hours meticulously perfecting earlier in the year and approach the porch in silence.

 “You’re free to go inside and get anything you’d like,” Shadow says in as calm and gentle a voice as possible.

 “There’s nothing inside I want,” I reply.

 And it’s true. My mother is gone, and my old life along with her. My new position in life has no desperate need of anything that happens to remain in the house, memories or otherwise.

 Shadow, in response, climbs the few old and rickety steps onto the porch and approaches the yellow do not cross tape. But rather than attempt to enter, he merely crouches down and reaches out to touch the edge of the doorframe. “It was here,” he says. “Watching her. Before it attacked.”

 “How do you know?” I ask.

 “There is hateful energy here—a malevolence that has burned itself into the wood.” He runs his hand along the panels beneath his palm. “It is… deeply disturbing. Many Sanguine are of quite sound mind. This one… resembled an animal.”

 “I saw its face,” I say. “In the vision I received when I was administered the serum. It… it looked human, but so did the one they made me fight in the training chamber after I recovered.”

 “A human face does not always mean a human spirit,” Shadow says. “Never forget that.”

 With a nod, I look into the kitchen window and imagine my mother standing somewhere inside, cooking lunch on a Sunday afternoon while waiting for me to rise after sleeping in. She’d call Scarlet! as the bacon spit, as the eggs fried, as the pancakes sizzled to crisp perfection; and I, still asleep, would yell, Five more minutes! only to have my mother counter, No! Get down here!

 The thought, as simple as it happens to be, is enough to burn rage throughout my sternum—and as I turn to view the scenery around me, of the houses occupied by churchgoing people and the police cruiser inhabited of the man being repeatedly Wiped, I wonder: Did they know? Did they know they somehow believe something more sinister had happened here, at the Brown household? And if so: how could they go on living their daily lives knowing that one of their neighbors had died?

 And not just died, I think. Was murdered.

 Brutally murdered at that.

 I shake my head to dispel the questions in my head and with a burning sadness blossoming in my ribcage turn to look at Shadow. “Do you know where it is?”

 “No,” the Wiper says. “I don’t.”

 “You mean you don’t have any idea?”

 “The energy is residual and marked only on these grounds. If I had more of a trail to go upon, then maybe I could find it. But as of now, I have nothing.”

 Nothing.

 The word is a darkness in my mind, an anathema to my heart.

 I sigh. Close my eyes. Expel a breath. I then wait, without success, for some kind of clarity to come.

 I’m a Hunter, I think. I should know these things.

 Then again: they’d never handed me a training manual.

 Despite that, I try to attune my senses to the world around me—to listen to the wind whispering in the humid air, in the impressions it stirs in the grass on the hard ground, in the creaking of the home that once belonged to me and my mother.

 I step toward the yellow do not cross tape and am just about to touch it when something strikes me.

 That smell—that horrible, wretched smell.

 Blood.

 “Death,” I whisper.

 “Do you sense something?” Shadow asks, rising to his full height.

 “I smell blood,” I reply, inhaling a deep breath of the bitter scent. “Faintly, though. It’s masked by cleaner, but it’s there, just like you said it would be.”

 “Does it compel you to go anywhere?”

 “Is it supposed to?”This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

 Shadow frowns as he steps up beside her. “Some Hunters report developing a psychic sense after taking the Trinity Serum,” he says. “Now, whether or not that’s true I cannot say.”

 “What about the blood I’m smelling now, though?”

 “You’ve the DNA of a Howler within you, Scarlet. Your senses have been amplified. That’s why you’re able to smell the blood.”

 So I have powers I don’t even know about, I think, balling my hand into a fist.

 “You’re going to have to explain what all the serum did to me,” I say after a moment’s consideration.

 “I will,” he replies. “But now is not the time or place. We must concentrate on finding this creature before it does even more damage.”

 “Where do we start?” I ask.

 “First, we need to secure lodging. Then we wait until night falls and begin our hunt.”

 * * *

 The hotel room is old. Dingy. Smells of cigarette smoke and possesses only one bed.

 “I will rest in the chair,” Shadow says as he considers our meager surroundings.

 “Are you sure?” I ask. “I mean, I know you said you didn’t need to sleep, but just because you don’t have to sleep doesn’t mean—”

 “My comfort is irrelevant, Scarlet. Besides—you are the one who’s going to be fighting this creature.”

 “Don’t remind me.” I sigh and seat myself on the old bed. I look past my companion and out the window, toward the parking lot and the car. “So—now that we’re here, what do we do?”

 “I suppose we could begin our reconnaissance by returning to your neighborhood and walking the streets.”

 “Why?”

 “To look for clues—and mainly to see if any pets have been reported missing.”

 “You think the vampire would really go after someone’s pets?” I ask and frown not long after. I can’t help but think of the animals that might have fallen victim—like little Buffy or Scooby biting the dust at the hands of some grizzly vampire.

 “It’s quite possible. Vampires are opportunistic feeders, and if people leave their pets outside, they run the risk of them being preyed upon by greater hunters.”

 “I guess you’re right,” I say and sigh. “That still doesn’t make me feel any better.”

 “I know.”

 “This thing’s already ruined my life. I don’t want it to take away from anyone else’s.”

 “I understand, Scarlet. But we can’t let the possibilities blind us. If there are, in fact, missing pets, it may only confirm that the creature might be hunting in the area.”

 “I know.”

 “Good.” Shadow extends a hand. “Let’s return to your old neighborhood and see what we can find.”

 “All right,” I say and stand.

 I take a moment to compose myself—to prepare for what could be a scene of haunting proportions—before nodding and following Shadow out the door.

 * * *

 The community billboard is covered with missing pet signs, along with a newspaper article that reads: Missing pets in Shreveport neighborhood on the rise.

 “This can’t be a coincidence,” I say, crossing my arms as I consider, with sadness and hatred, the list of cats and small dogs that are nowhere to be found. “There’s just too many of them.”

 “No,” Shadow says. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

 “So our vampire is probably still here, in this neighborhood—watching and waiting for whatever easy prey comes next.”

 “It’s only a matter of time before another person is attacked,” he replies.

 “I’m not going to let that happen,” I say.

 I turn to consider the neighborhood around me—the small children playing on bikes, and the nervous neighbors watching them from stoops and porches—before nodding. “We have to find it and soon.”

 “I agree,” Shadow says.

 “So where do we start? Here? After night falls?”

 “We can’t fight it out in the open. We have to draw the creature into an isolated area and ensure we can properly dispose of the body once you slay it.”

 “All right. Where do you suggest?”

 “I was just going to ask you that, Scarlet. You’re the one who grew up in this area. You’d know more than I would.”

 I would, I think, and nod as I try my hardest to think of somewhere—anywhere—we can draw the creature to avoid a public spectacle or digital thumbprint.

 It seems impossible that I can do battle with a creature of darkness anywhere

 in the city without there being some kind of witness or record. For that reason, I begin to wonder:

 Is there a place we can do this? And if so: where exactly is it?

 I am just about to give up when a thought strikes me.

 The cemetery.

 We can draw the monster into the cemetery.

 “I think I know a place,” I say, turning and starting toward the car. “Follow me.”

 * * *

 The cemetery is lonely. Sectioned off by dilapidated fencing, and open to the public on several sides, its breathtaking expanse is large enough to offer privacy. At the same time, it holds just the right number of crypts to shroud most of its heart from view.

 “This is it,” I say as Shadow pulls up the cemetery’s gravel drive. “The Ashville Cemetery.”

 “It’s quite beautiful,” he replies.

 “And old,” I say. “Hardly anyone ever comes around here because of the rumor that this place is haunted.”

 “Is it?”

 “Why are you asking me?” I laugh. “I was a good girl. I never went ghost hunting. Or touring. Or whatever you’d want to call it.”

 “There may come a time when you have to,” he offered.

 “Don’t tell me ghosts are real too.”

 Shadow doesn’t reply. He merely views the landscape before us and studies it for several long moments before pointing to an old crypt with a doorway that sits partially open. “Has that always been like that?”

 “I’m… not sure.” I lean forward to view the mausoleum before us. “I mean… yeah… I passed this place on the way to and from school, but I never noticed if it was open. Probably some stupid kids trying to find a place to neck or something.”

 “I see.” Shadow leans back in his seat and offers an affirming nod. “I believe this will be the appropriate place to draw the creature into the open. It’s quiet, it’s secluded, it’s shrouded from the road and all these trees.” He gestures to the junipers beside them. “I guess my only question would be: are you ready to do this?”

 Am I ready? I think.

 How could Shadow even think to ask such a question?

 Rather than mull over the possibilities, or even my doubts and fears, I simply nod and say, “Yeah. I’m ready.”

 * * *

 It is the early hours of the afternoon by the time we arrive back at our hotel. Antsy, now more than ever, over the possibilities that could occur tonight, I pace the small room with abandon and try my hardest to piece together a plan.

 “What am I supposed to do for five hours?” I ask, spinning to face Shadow as I sense him approaching me.

 “You should sleep,” the Wiper replies.

 “Sleep?” I laugh. “You expect me to sleep?”

 “It would be best to go into this with as great a strength as possible.” Shadow sets a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Lie down, Scarlet. Even if you cannot sleep, rest will do you good.”

 “I suppose so,” I say and sigh not long after.

 I turn to consider the bed—at the small, queen-size spread that has seen better days, and say, “You’ll make sure I’m up in time to get ready?”

 “I wouldn’t do anything else,” he says.

 With a nod, I step forward, sit down atop the bed, then swing my legs onto the mattress and press my head onto the pillow.

 I close my eyes as Shadow approaches the window, as he draws the blinds to thrust us into darkness.

 For a moment, I do not think I will succumb to sleep.

 Then I slip into dream—

 * * *

 —only to emerge to a landscape unfamiliar to me.

 In a world that is lost to shadow, and a place where I am standing in waist-high fog, I lift my eyes to consider the world around me and try my hardest not to panic.

 I think, Where am I?

 Then I think, Am I still in Shreveport?

 The answer would seem to be no, that I am not in Shreveport, and maybe not even the physical world. But the longer I stand here, the colder I feel; and the colder I feel, the more I begin to shiver.

 Teeth chattering, I lift my hands to rub my arms and call, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

 I am here, a familiar voice says.

 I pale. “Mama?” I ask. “Was… was that you?”

 A flicker of movement moves out my peripheral.

 I spin—

 Just in time to see the figure of my mother, her form transparent but shrouded in gold light.

 “Mama,” I say.

 I am here for you, Scarlet. I will always be here for you.

 “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

 Not everyone can be saved, Scarlet.

 The words are enough to reduce me to tears. Heart pounding, mouth agape, I struggle to string together a reply—

 But my mother speaks before I do. You face a dangerous foe in the battle ahead. Please… consider what this means to you.

 “It means everything,” I say and sniffle as I lift my eyes to face her once more. “I’ve… I’ve realized something when I came here, Mama. When I was looking at the community bulletin board, and seeing all those lost pets.”

 My mother waits in silence.

 “I realized that I’m not just doing this for you, or even just for me,” I say. “I’m doing this for everyone who has ever been robbed of their lives. Of their loved ones. Who has had things taken from them by things from the Supernatural world.”

 Then go into the night, my mother says, and know that I will watch over you, always.

AliNovel

Chapter 19: Going Home