The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Chapter 19

"What time is it?" Linus moaned while driving all too slowly down the desolate highway on a day that was nearing noontime.

Fitzpatrick looked out at the passing farmland scenery and asked, "Does it really matter?"

Linus must have sighed at least three to four times since leaving the house. The man's entire body felt as if it were carrying a load of bricks tied to his heels. No matter what, he just couldn't get the fog out of his brain.

"It's hard to believe that this thing hiked almost three miles away just to eat more people."

Stirring awake from his dull stupor, Linus glanced over and grunted, "Huh?"

"I said, I can't believe the thing hiked three miles just to eat more people." Fitzpatrick replied a bit louder.

"Yeah," Linus sighed again."

"You gotta be kidding me." Alan griped.

"Whaddya mean?"

"What's with all the damn sighing? You sound like my wife whenever she wants sex from me?"

Linus shrugged and said, "We just wrapped up a five and a half month kidnapping investigation, and you're asking what's with all the sighing?"

"For Christ's sake," Alan grumbled, "it's not the first kidnapping we've ever covered."

Linus didn't bother to look over at his partner, instead, he gazed upwards into the grey, brooding sky. "What would make a person do all of that, Al?"

"Do what?"

"Kidnap, rape and kill. He even raped the guys, for God's sake." Linus shook his head in shame. "I'm sitting here trying to figure out what sort of twisted event in this man's life could have brought him to such a point."

"Who knows?" Alan groaned. "He obviously had some kind of sick fetish that needed to be fulfilled. You mentioned it yourself back at the TV station."

"And the smell," Linus lamented. "How can any normal human being tolerate having all those dead bodies in that house and not become sick themselves?"

"After a while, even the most perverted person becomes accustomed to his or hers perversion. The man was obviously tormented."

Bruin only scanned the grazing land that passed by at 33 mph.

"I wonder if Gloria saw—

"That's enough!" A frustrated Fitzpatrick hollered.

A momentary quiet took place inside the car before Linus again sighed and said, "I suppose you're gonna tell me that I'm feeling sorry for myself, right?"

"No, it's not that." Fitzpatrick huffed. "You're shitting bricks because after all these months someone or something else got that fucker before you could. We all wanted to plug a bullet in the guy, but we missed out."

Linus rolled his eyes in the other direction, hoping that he could possibly ignore his partner's rant, but it seemed that the more he tried to focus on other matters, Gloria's pale, terrified image would cross his path in stunning full color.

"Whaddya think?" Fitzpatrick looked over.

"Think about what?"

"About what Brice said about the fur. Do you believe that there could be a pack of wolves running around out here?"

"Who's to say?" Linus gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I can't see wolves tearing through a wall like a wrecking ball. Maybe it's something that escaped from the zoo."

"The zoo," Fitzpatrick chuckled. "If I ever see the thing that could eat the way that fucker did last night, then I hope we never find it."

Linus actually wanted the creature to materialize inside his mind, but he had to sift through the dead bodies first before he could even place the image of an overgrown killer beast prowling the countryside into his psyche.

"A wolf," Fitzpatrick sniggered. "I swear that Brice gets dumber by the day."

Linus smirked before asking, "You don't think too much of Pat, do you?"

"It's not that I don't like the kid, it's just that...well, he's a kid." Alan tossed up his hands. "An Ivy league, smarty pants, know-it-all kid. He's just twenty years younger than you and I. The guy is creepy, if you ask me."

"Are you trying to say that we're old men?"

"Nope, I like to play it like my wife; I turn twenty-four with every passing birthday."

Linus smiled at the remark while glancing down at the speedometer to notice for the very first time that he was driving extra slow.

"Damn kids are taking our jobs." Fitzpatrick begrudged in a doleful tone.

"Is that all you're concerned about?" Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

"No, I also hope I get home in time this evening to watch 'Battle of the Network Stars.'"

Linus wanted to burst out laughing, but he restrained himself as a semi-truck roared past them on the other side of the road. The first sign of life ever since leaving Cummins' house.

"I was thinking about calling Linda." Linus muttered.

It took a few moments before Fitzpatrick said anything. "It's a shame that you have to actually think about calling home."

"Yeah...it is." Linus bitterly sulked with a far off expression hanging on his face. "I hate to say this, but I think you have a better chance of speaking rationally with someone like O'Dea than you do with Linda."

"I can handle O'Dea, in small doses, mind you."

Once more, a drowning silence took place inside the cruiser. For a few moments Linus actually believed that he had slipped into another trance.

"Did you catch the body on that one reporter?"

"Which one," Linus glanced strangely over at his partner.

"The black lady," Fitzpatrick smirked.

"Oh yeah, she was a looker."

"I can see you with a black chic."

Linus grinned...and drove along.

***

As Linus parked the cruiser behind a coroners van, both he and Alan noticed a barrage of officers and reporters all milling about the yard of a red and white brick house. Without uttering a single word, they climbed out of the vehicle and dragged themselves towards another squad car just a few feet away where a bald, middle-aged black officer was standing with a C.B. radio in his hand.

"Good afternoon, guys." The officer greeted as he placed the radio back into the holster inside the car. "Long time no see." He shook both Linus and Alan's hands.

"How are you, Phelps?" Fitzpatrick asked.

"Not too well, I'm afraid." Phelps pouted before turning to the house to his right. "We got six dead bodies. A mother, father and their four daughters. The mother was found in the living room. Her entire skull was cracked wide open. The father was found in the basement with his guts lying all over the steps."

"It even got the daughters, too?" Linus regrettably inquired.

"Upstairs...all four girls. Two, four, seven and ten," Phelps chocked. "Something just...just tore its way through the bedroom door and got them all."

"Who found them?" Linus asked while zipping up his coat.

"The wife's mother," Phelps said. "She lives right across the street. She and the mother have coffee every morning. Can you imagine finding this, of all things?"

All three men looked over to a distant pine bush and watched as the loudly weeping grandmother was consoled by a number of female neighbors.

"You two should see the bedroom." Phelps murmured. "You can hardly take two steps without...it's like something from out of one of these dickhead horror movies."

"We would like to take a quick peek inside, just to see what we're dealing with." Linus said while glancing nervously over at the foreboding house.

"I heard you found your guy."

"It was more like we found what was left of him." Fitzpatrick snickered. "But, as it so happens, something else found him first."

"And whatever found him made its way here." Phelps rubbed his face in weariness. "It broke in through a basement window."

Linus stepped forward, placed his right hand on Phelps' shoulder and sympathetically whispered into the man's face, "We're sorry about Calvin, Lou."

Phelps dropped his head in a noble lamentation before glancing back and saying, "Sometimes, losing a nephew feels like losing your own son. This is all his mother needs right now. Does anyone know what did all of this? A bear or something?"

"That's what we're still trying to sort out." Linus responded. "Our man kept a recording of all the rapes he committed. Last night, right after he got through with his last victim, something came up from out of his basement and tore him limb from limb, literally. He left his recorder on the entire time. We can't seem to make heads or tails of just what exactly it is."

"Brice, from forensics, doesn't believe it's a bear." Fitzpatrick added. "He says that the paw tracks are too large."

"Come inside and take a look at this." Phelps said as he stepped away from his cruiser and led Bruin and Fitzpatrick to the house ahead.

From left to right, all three men dodged officers and four covered stretchers that were being wheeled out of the house. Ironically, both Bruin and Fitzpatrick had the same thing in mind when it came to who was up under the black blankets.

As all three men entered into the house, the strong odor of exposed human organs slapped them across the face hard enough to where Linus had to cover his nose with his fingers all over again.

"Here they are." Phelps somberly announced while holding up the picture of the entire family in a frame. "The Sanders. The husband, Gary, was an architect. The wife, Sarah, was a homemaker."

"What were the girls' names?" Linus inquired while glancing down at the floor to see strands of red hair sporadically sprinkled all over the carpet.

"Jamie, Giselle, Jodie and Terry," Phelps remarked.

Linus paced forward and examined the frame closer. "That's nice." He regrettably frowned. "They were a handsome family."

"What I have to show you guys is unfortunately upstairs."

"Let's go check it out." Fitzpatrick said in an almost eager manner.

Linus stared at the man as if he had lost all control of his mental faculties. He himself was still trying to grasp the fact that an entire family had been ostensibly wiped out in one night; heading upstairs to witness even more ugliness wasn't in his agenda.

Phelps and Fitzpatrick carried on up the stairs, with Linus bringing up a very reluctant rear. As the men rounded a corner, a sudden whiff of cold air sprang out into the hallway. A streak of blood was smeared along the wall right above a blue laundry basket.

"Here it is." Phelps broadcasted, stepping into the blood spattered room.

"What the hell?" Linus astonishingly inhaled at the hole in the wall that led outside.

"Yep, apparently after it was through, it jumped out not only the window, but it took half the damn wall as well." Phelps explained. "Take a look at this." Phelps pointed to the bed.

Linus and Alan peered down at the destroyed, bleeding bed. Almost immediately, beyond all the blood, the one thing that Linus took notice of was all the black fur that was littered from one end of the bed to the other.

Piece by piece, Linus picked up strands. "Can we take some of this with us?"

"Be my guest." Phelps said. "There's not much else anyone can take anymore. The damn thing was strong enough to throw one of the girls out of the room and clear into the hallway. That was the two year old."

Fitzpatrick, holding his nose, gradually backed out of the bedroom while mumbling, "This was a bad idea, guys."

"You were the one that wanted to come up here so bad, Evel Knievel." Linus replied with an uneasy smirk.

"That's the one problem with living way out in the sticks, no one can hear you whenever trouble arises." Phelps observed while marching over and picking up the shattered glass lamp from off the floor before placing it onto the nightstand. "We're there any survivors in that guy's house?"

"The woman he kidnapped some days ago." Linus answered. "You should have seen her face, Lou. She'll have to live with what that man did to her for the rest of her life. All that poor girl could do was stare off into space."

Phelps quaintly chuckled, "You get rid of one animal, and here comes another."

"I have a feeling that we'll be hearing a lot more of that phrase in the days to come." Fitzpatrick chimed in from the safety of the hallway.

Both Linus and Lou exited the bedroom. For Linus, he felt even heavier than he did before entering. All he could do was turn back and catch one final, brief glimpse of the bed from out of the corner of his eye.

"Officer Phelps!" A young, white officer yelled, running up the stairs. "We've got a report of a break in at a church, just a few miles west of this location!"

Phelps sniggered to himself, looking as if he had no idea as to what to do with such information. "Uh, as you can see, officer, we sorta got bigger fish to fry right here."

"Wait a minute, Lou." Linus breathlessly interjected. "What was the extent of the damage?" He then asked the young officer.

"That's easy, Detective, according to the guys already there, it looks like a bulldozer just crashed through a window. There's a big mess inside the place."

Linus looked over at Alan and shook his head up and down as to say that they were already on their way.

Without speaking another word, both detectives handed Phelps a final nod before heading back downstairs.

"Ten bucks says our friend got a conscience and went straight to confession last night." Alan jibed.