Finding Innocence - Chapter 2 - PG
Posted: Wed Jan 21, 2009 6:28 pm
Chapter 2
As if responding to an unseen cue, the private investigator rose to his feet and carefully returned the photograph to Renee Williams. “Thank you,” he said. “I better get going.”
“Don’t you want to take it with you?
“That’s all right,” the PI assured her, “I have what I need.”
“Please," her eyes pleaded even more desperately than her words, "please let me come.”
“You should stay here,” Mick suggested gently. “If Matthew comes back – if security finds him - you’ll want to be here for him.”
The boy’s mother reluctantly conceded that the quiet stranger had a point. “Here, Mr. St. John, take this, then,” she urged, as she scribbled on a hotel notepad. “My phone number – in case you need to reach me.” She forced a half-hearted smile, trying to look brave. The PI’s heightened senses weren’t misled, however. He could feel the strangling fear in every pounding beat of her heart.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Williams – I’m going to bring him back to you. I promise.”
Mick St. John was a man of few words. Yet, to Renee Williams, his soulful eyes spoke volumes and reflected the depth of his sincerity and determination. She watched with renewed faith as he shoved the paper into his coat pocket and headed towards the rear of the lobby. He paused for a moment near the entrance to the up-scale restaurant located there, and then, it seemed to her, he snapped his head to the left and disappeared down the corridor.
The pendulum of a large mahogany grandfather clock kept time with Mick’s long stride, marking the fleeting seconds as he moved briskly past. He briefly eyed the coatroom to his left, before stopping in front of the restrooms across the way. Closing his eyes, the detective pulled images from the air with a slow, deep breath. The boy had entered and exited the men’s room and then turned in the opposite direction from the lobby. Mick traced the boy’s footsteps to a bank of house phones. There, Matthew had apparently spent some time pushing each of the numbered buttons, before moving a short distance down the hall to a drinking fountain. And then he stopped.
It was at that spot that Matthew’s scent mingled with something more pungent, something sinister. It was barely perceptible, the decay was so slight, but it was there, nonetheless – the smell of another vampire. A newbie, Mick surmised, turned within the past few months, had chanced upon the strayed child. There was no struggle – not here - but the young vamp had plans just the same.
“Victims always leave a trail,” Mick often said, but he hadn’t considered Matthew a victim, exactly, until the trail itself took a sharp turn into all too familiar territory. Heeding a threat more lethal than anyone had suspected, the PI quickened his pace as he moved down the corridor and turned right towards the staff entrance to the kitchen. To the left was a service door, which according to the security chief, was supposed to be locked.
Although it was closed and seemingly untouched, instinct told him that inhuman strength had been used to force the bolt. He pushed the door open into the night and stepped out into a surprisingly bright lot. The service area was well lit and visible from several vantage points. This young vampire may have been new, but he had been well trained. He wasn’t stupid. This was no place to make a meal of his tender prey.
Still, the hunter and the hunted had lingered there. The heavy concentration of scent outside the door suggested that it must have taken quite some time to coax the boy to follow. What ploy the newbie used – perhaps the promise of leading him back to his mother or possibly the offer of a new game to play – Mick couldn’t say. But he sensed that it had taken a great deal of effort to garner cooperation from the autistic child. In fact, they had only left the loading area a few minutes earlier. With renewed urgency, the PI ran towards the back of the building. When he reached the darker alley behind the hotel, he encountered a shadowy network of back street passages running between the tall buildings - the ideal place for a hungry vamp to escape scrutiny or detection.
Mick navigated the desolate maze with increasing speed, knowing that each second that passed might mark the child’s last heartbeat. The smells in these alleys told dozens of stories – of opportunistic vamps and of humans both outcast and downcast - tales of hunger and despair and hopelessness. Undeterred, he shook off the bleak images that threatened to weigh him down.
Rounding a corner into a dimly lit passageway, he finally caught sight of a pair of disparate figures at the far end. He immediately recognized the small boy, his face illuminated by the screen of his Nintendo DS. The child was lost in his video game, oblivious to the deadly intentions of the skinny teen-age vampire looming behind him, teeth bared and ready to strike.
“HEY!” Mick shouted, freezing the other vamp in mid-attack, his fatal breath grazing the back of the boy’s neck. The newbie jerked his head up at the interruption. His eyes flashed silver-white as he stepped in front of the boy, like a wild animal protecting a new kill from a scavenger.
The predator licked his lips and hissed at the unwelcome intruder, “He’s mine!”
“I don’t think so,” Mick growled, his voice dark and deep.
His change was instantaneous, as was his attack. Mick struck the other vampire with crushing force. Matthew was pushed out of the way, his back pressed against the building to the left. His DS went clattering across the alley where it came to rest at the base of a dumpster. The child stood frozen, staring expressionlessly at the furious commotion unleashed just a few feet away from him. He covered his ears with both hands, shielding them from the ferocious sounds of the fight.
Driven forcibly into the brick wall of an adjacent building, the newbie vamp was no match for Mick, who’d had years to hone his skills. The unpracticed fangs were unable to find their mark before Mick hoisted him by his scrawny neck and hurled him into the fire escape hanging above. The young vamp met the steel with a resounding clang and then collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap. Raising his head and breathing heavily, he bared his fangs, again hissing at the interloper. He rose slowly to his feet, cautiously regarding the dominant vampire, who stood ready to finish what he had started, and decided then that the young morsel wasn’t worth the fight. He turned without warning and vanished into the darkness at the far end of the alley.
Every fiery urge, every dark instinct in Mick, told him to give chase – to follow the newbie and teach him a grievous lesson about preying on innocents. And he would have, were it not for a stunning, sobering sound coming from just a few feet away.
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As if responding to an unseen cue, the private investigator rose to his feet and carefully returned the photograph to Renee Williams. “Thank you,” he said. “I better get going.”
“Don’t you want to take it with you?
“That’s all right,” the PI assured her, “I have what I need.”
“Please," her eyes pleaded even more desperately than her words, "please let me come.”
“You should stay here,” Mick suggested gently. “If Matthew comes back – if security finds him - you’ll want to be here for him.”
The boy’s mother reluctantly conceded that the quiet stranger had a point. “Here, Mr. St. John, take this, then,” she urged, as she scribbled on a hotel notepad. “My phone number – in case you need to reach me.” She forced a half-hearted smile, trying to look brave. The PI’s heightened senses weren’t misled, however. He could feel the strangling fear in every pounding beat of her heart.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Williams – I’m going to bring him back to you. I promise.”
Mick St. John was a man of few words. Yet, to Renee Williams, his soulful eyes spoke volumes and reflected the depth of his sincerity and determination. She watched with renewed faith as he shoved the paper into his coat pocket and headed towards the rear of the lobby. He paused for a moment near the entrance to the up-scale restaurant located there, and then, it seemed to her, he snapped his head to the left and disappeared down the corridor.
The pendulum of a large mahogany grandfather clock kept time with Mick’s long stride, marking the fleeting seconds as he moved briskly past. He briefly eyed the coatroom to his left, before stopping in front of the restrooms across the way. Closing his eyes, the detective pulled images from the air with a slow, deep breath. The boy had entered and exited the men’s room and then turned in the opposite direction from the lobby. Mick traced the boy’s footsteps to a bank of house phones. There, Matthew had apparently spent some time pushing each of the numbered buttons, before moving a short distance down the hall to a drinking fountain. And then he stopped.
It was at that spot that Matthew’s scent mingled with something more pungent, something sinister. It was barely perceptible, the decay was so slight, but it was there, nonetheless – the smell of another vampire. A newbie, Mick surmised, turned within the past few months, had chanced upon the strayed child. There was no struggle – not here - but the young vamp had plans just the same.
“Victims always leave a trail,” Mick often said, but he hadn’t considered Matthew a victim, exactly, until the trail itself took a sharp turn into all too familiar territory. Heeding a threat more lethal than anyone had suspected, the PI quickened his pace as he moved down the corridor and turned right towards the staff entrance to the kitchen. To the left was a service door, which according to the security chief, was supposed to be locked.
Although it was closed and seemingly untouched, instinct told him that inhuman strength had been used to force the bolt. He pushed the door open into the night and stepped out into a surprisingly bright lot. The service area was well lit and visible from several vantage points. This young vampire may have been new, but he had been well trained. He wasn’t stupid. This was no place to make a meal of his tender prey.
Still, the hunter and the hunted had lingered there. The heavy concentration of scent outside the door suggested that it must have taken quite some time to coax the boy to follow. What ploy the newbie used – perhaps the promise of leading him back to his mother or possibly the offer of a new game to play – Mick couldn’t say. But he sensed that it had taken a great deal of effort to garner cooperation from the autistic child. In fact, they had only left the loading area a few minutes earlier. With renewed urgency, the PI ran towards the back of the building. When he reached the darker alley behind the hotel, he encountered a shadowy network of back street passages running between the tall buildings - the ideal place for a hungry vamp to escape scrutiny or detection.
Mick navigated the desolate maze with increasing speed, knowing that each second that passed might mark the child’s last heartbeat. The smells in these alleys told dozens of stories – of opportunistic vamps and of humans both outcast and downcast - tales of hunger and despair and hopelessness. Undeterred, he shook off the bleak images that threatened to weigh him down.
Rounding a corner into a dimly lit passageway, he finally caught sight of a pair of disparate figures at the far end. He immediately recognized the small boy, his face illuminated by the screen of his Nintendo DS. The child was lost in his video game, oblivious to the deadly intentions of the skinny teen-age vampire looming behind him, teeth bared and ready to strike.
“HEY!” Mick shouted, freezing the other vamp in mid-attack, his fatal breath grazing the back of the boy’s neck. The newbie jerked his head up at the interruption. His eyes flashed silver-white as he stepped in front of the boy, like a wild animal protecting a new kill from a scavenger.
The predator licked his lips and hissed at the unwelcome intruder, “He’s mine!”
“I don’t think so,” Mick growled, his voice dark and deep.
His change was instantaneous, as was his attack. Mick struck the other vampire with crushing force. Matthew was pushed out of the way, his back pressed against the building to the left. His DS went clattering across the alley where it came to rest at the base of a dumpster. The child stood frozen, staring expressionlessly at the furious commotion unleashed just a few feet away from him. He covered his ears with both hands, shielding them from the ferocious sounds of the fight.
Driven forcibly into the brick wall of an adjacent building, the newbie vamp was no match for Mick, who’d had years to hone his skills. The unpracticed fangs were unable to find their mark before Mick hoisted him by his scrawny neck and hurled him into the fire escape hanging above. The young vamp met the steel with a resounding clang and then collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap. Raising his head and breathing heavily, he bared his fangs, again hissing at the interloper. He rose slowly to his feet, cautiously regarding the dominant vampire, who stood ready to finish what he had started, and decided then that the young morsel wasn’t worth the fight. He turned without warning and vanished into the darkness at the far end of the alley.
Every fiery urge, every dark instinct in Mick, told him to give chase – to follow the newbie and teach him a grievous lesson about preying on innocents. And he would have, were it not for a stunning, sobering sound coming from just a few feet away.
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