Believe, Glynis Rankin [classic literature list .txt] 📗

the confused jabbering of an injured child, Clyde Barton had believed. He was the only one that believed, the only one that ever believed.  

Will it happen again? Sara thought about the memory flashed; of people screaming, a raging fire, and so much death.

Sara shivered.

Why now, after all these years, were those memories coming back to haunt her?  Was it because of the murders or did it mean her parent’s killers were still out there? Could they come after her too, even here? The question hung on her mind like a cloak.

 Sara felt a cold bead of sweat slide down her back. 

She had to get out.

Chapter Twenty Three

“Let me out!” Sara spoke to the two-sided mirror sensing Wash there. She hadn’t told him the truth because she saw his kind far too many times in the system; they would never put their badge on the line for a child. “Please!”

  Sara didn’t care if they didn’t believe her. Well, not really, although it did hurt a little that she had no one.  She just needed someone, anyone, to hear her out and believe what she told them was the truth. She wished Clyde was here.

Sara felt the tickle of fear again; she knew Wash wasn’t going to let her leave. She turned her thoughts to Tyrell.  She watched him while he stared at her, their eyes locking through their reflections in the mirror.  Are you okay? The question lay in his onyx eyes.

 Tyrell was tall and dark, he reminded her of a slick black animal with his ebony smooth skin.  His features were naturally broad, but quite handsome in any circle. He looked more at home running the streets wearing jeans than a suit and tie job. Like those men she knew who roamed the streets around the last home she was in, who she feared would do her harm, Sara sensed the air of a predator swirling around Tyrell.

 Could he be what she feared? She pondered, but dismissed the thought. No way.

The threat she felt came from somewhere else. Although he wasn’t the threat, there was no humor in Tyrell’s eyes, unlike Wilburn, just a hint of sadness in his black gaze. She supposed he felt pity for her because he thought she fabricated the facts. That might be a good thing. 

Sara thought about how she could use Tyrell’s compassion as a means to get out of here. He was a doctor after all not a hard-nosed cop like Wash.

Sara slid her eyes back to her reflection. The person staring back had dark, scary eyes under a heavy scowled brow that glared at Sara with malice. The girl looking back was someone she had never really known, had no persona, just a scared little rabbit, but no more.

 Sara stared at Tyrell. Yeah, I’m okay.

Chapter Twenty Four

“Have you told them this?” Tyrell knew she told them a version, a half-truth. Sara had a history of lying that was clearly stated in her file like she mentioned.

 He wanted to believe her story, but it was unbelievable.

 “Would you?” She furiously returned to her pacing.

 “Sara, come on!” Tyrell gave a long-suffering sigh. It was late; he's grown tired and hungry. He knew she was too. Plus, this small room wasn’t helping his patience.

 Sara turned back to him. “I’m not crazy!” she snapped.

 “No one said you were. ”Tyrell started, but she interrupted.

 “Fuck’em!” Sara spat. She directed her venom at Wilburn, but to his credit, the officer didn’t reply.

 “Damn cops!” She yelled irate. “Why you got me in here, huh, why? I haven’t done shit!”

Tyrell saw Wilburn place his hand on his weapon.

 “Sit down little girl!” Wilburn yelled, pointing to the chair.

 “Fuck you!” Sara yelled again. “Ain't nobody scared of the Po Po!"

“Sit down!”

 “I ain’t got to sit nowhere!”

Tyrell rushed to stand between them. “Let’s all calm down.”

He held out his hands to stop them both, but frowned at Wilburn because he should know better. Tyrell had to get Sara calm before this officer overreacted to an irritated child’s outburst. He didn’t want or need an incident in this confined space.

 “She’s just a child venting her frustration out over what happened, Wilburn. If you just lost your parents, in the way that she had, then brought here and be placed in a room for hours with an armed guard, wouldn’t you be upset and angry. Surely you can understand her outburst?” Tyrell spoke in a rapid cadence.

Wilburn nodded.

He turned to Sara.  “It’s okay, Sara, let us all calm down and take a seat.”

 Wilburn relinquished the tight grip he had on his weapon, allowing Tyrell to release the breath he didn’t realize he held. He turned his attention back to Sara. She's pacing again, having completely ignored the officer’s gesture.

“You think he cares! Please,” she hissed. “He thinks I’m crazy!” she blurted.

  “That’s not helping…"Tyrell started, but she stopped him again.

 “I saw it!” She yelled at him for a second time. “No matter what you all think. I know what I saw!”

“Get her to sit down Doc!” Wilburn sounded nervous.

Tyrell didn’t have to look at Wilburn to know he’d gone for his gun. He wondered why officers often went for their weapons, when it wasn’t always necessary. Sara’s outburst was no match for his brute.

“Let me handle this Wilburn, please.”

 Tyrell kept his eye on Sara while waving the young officer to stand down. He saw from the corner of his eye that he had indeed relaxed, if just for a bit, but  kept his hand on his weapon. Where do they get these people, Tyrell pondered turning his thoughts back to Sara.

 “Now really….”Tyrell began yet his words were stammered by her outburst.

 “Fuck you too!” Sara hissed disappointed. “If you don’t believe what I said, then FUCK you!”

“Sit down!” Wilburn yelled back.

The room sizzled with frustrated tension as if, static was released into an electrical room. Things were about to escalate when someone knocked on the door, breaking the bubble of tension.

Wilburn yanked the door open. A pretty young woman in a white lab coat stood in the doorway holding a large black case and a warm, be it tried, smile.

 “Crime scene tech,” she said, looking around the officer to the occupants in the room. “I’ve come for the evidence.”

 

Chapter Twenty Five

Dr. Dylan" Big Boi" Chapman was cold and callous and all business when he worked a job.

He entered the city morgue with an air of authority as if he belonged in the secure facility. He greeted Steve Fina with a nod.

The morgue tech made the necessary arrangements so Big Boi had no problems entering the building.

“Where are they?” he asked.

“In here.” Steve led him to the cold storage crypt in the back.  “The male was autopsied, his samples destroyed. I’ve separated the woman from the others so this can be done fast.”

The large cold room held between fifty and eighty black plastic bags in what looked like stainless steel bunk beds. The room was always a surprise to Big Boi because of the bright lights. Guess the dead don't care if the lights are on or not, he thought.  In the center of the room was a single gurney with a body bag, it's moving.

 “Shit! She’s awake!” Big Boi unzip the large plastic bag.  What he saw was the bloody face of Nell Elton. She stared at him with fright apparent in her eye.

 Confused, she stared at the handsome black man. “What happened…where am I?”

“Don’t worry Mrs Elton; we’re going to take care of you.” Big Boi told her before turning to Steve. “ Did any of the staff photograph or document the damage to the bodies?”

“Are you a doctor? I need help!” Nell tried to move, but Big Boi held her down. “Yes, I’m a doctor Mrs. Elton, please remain calm. I need to get as much information as I can before I examine you.”

“No, I’m the only tech on duty tonight,” Steve watched Big Boi survey Nell’s wounds.

The big man nodded once. Then he turned Nell over on her side, “Hold her here.”

Steve held the woman while Big Boi reached inside his black bag to remove a long, thin blade.

“Am I hunt bad, well I be alright?” Nell asked, frighten. “Where’s Tom, my husband? Is he okay?”

"He's fine ma'am." Steve told the terrified woman.“We have access to resources here,” he said to Big Boi.

“ I know, but I prefer to use my own.” Big Boi patted Nell's shoulder. “ I’m here to help Mrs. Elton, this might hurt a bit.”

He made a small incision at the base of the woman’s neck, just below her hairline.

She screamed in pain. “Nooo! Please don’t… please! You're hurting me!”

Nell struggled to get out of Steve’s grasp, but he held her motionless while Big Boi inserted the blade.  The skilled assassin cut her spinal cord with two quick slices of the transverse ligaments. Mrs. Nell Elton stopped struggling.

"It’s done."

The old ways of breaking a werewolf’s neck or removing its heart were long gone now that autopsies were being performed on almost every body. Big Boi knew an injury of this kind can easily be the result of post mortem dissection.

The clans had to get smarter. They’re werewolves who were doctors, in pharmaceutical and research labs as well as morgues to keep down their exposures to the humans. They’ve been successful so far, but even as much as Big Boi enjoyed his work. Dr. Chapman knew it wasn’t going to last forever.

While Big Boi cleaned his blade at the utility sink Steve restored the body bag.

  “Power said you have a package for me?” Big Boi asked replacing his blade.

Steve handed him a small envelope.  “You’ll find everything you need to get inside the police station. She’s on the top floor in integration room two.”

Big Boi removed the items from the envelope while Steve continued to talk. "She's under guard, so you'll