Sunday, October 30, 2016

Number 57

The patrol car turned right at the corner of 288th street in front of Dek cutting him off just as he stepped off the curb; he dug in his heel making a hard left behind the cruiser crossed the wide Street on the “Walk” signal away from the cops as they now crept down 288th; he didn’t speed up or slow down, keeping cool.

He’d been slowly shuffling his way along for six blocks heading due south straight away from his kill. He didn’t notice the slowly moving squad car coming up McDermott until they were right on his ass; “ah fuck” slipped from his lips as he saw them over his left shoulder. They’d been pacing him almost half the last block cruising along at two miles per hour looking at him and all the other brothers dragging their broken asses down the filthy run down Street; he did his best to blend in “I’m just another nigga walkin down the street” he murmured under his breath. The Street was busy on Friday night; worn out hookers leaned against store fronts in their dirty tight short skirts “Want ta fuck” just wasn’t a turn on when they were charging a hundred bucks a fuck looking like thin skinned bags of bad drugs and deadly disease.

He wasn’t worried much about the patrol car; he’d stuffed the dead guy under a stack of pallets and cardboard. They wouldn’t find the body until at least Monday when the garbage got picked up; what he was worried about is that he was covered in blood. The piece of shit put up quite the fight even though Dek had a gun and the dick didn’t have a damn thing to defend himself with. Dek jammed the gun under the guys nose and pulled the trigger; huge flash, bang that still had his ears ringing, blinded by the flash Dek couldn’t see a damn thing with his eyes full of sparkling lights; the damn dead man took off like a rabbit; what he did get was sprayed by arterial blood like a rain bird sprinkler from the man’s face. Five explosions later from the short barreled .357 revolver the piece of shit was down and bleeding out under the garbage that piled up as he skidded to a dead stop.

Derek Priestley Williams born August 27th 1973; one of the hottest days of the decade brought one more miserable mouth to feed into a family of eight kids and one run down drugged out mother living in a two room apartment that just got posted for razing in two short months. Thelma pushing 325 pounds was one pissed off junky; hotter than hell and another mouth to feed, she was thinking of killing the dick that pumped her up; the additional money the baby would bring her on welfare never covered what it took to feed them; this one would be raised by the street just like all the others.

Derek was run through school just like all inner city kids; no child left behind, nope they all got pushed from one grade up to the next regardless of achievements. Graduating early like all his friends; some called it dropping out but to his group it was graduating early. Derek’s only chance for a job was with the local drug trade. Starting out as a lookout then promoted to low level dealer, finally making it to small infraction enforcer Derek was getting into the money; he’d even paid a few bucks towards some of his mother’s overdue account at the grocers.

Derek made the leap to full enforcer after stepping in front of a bullet meant for the drug boss fired from a passing car; he’d never looked back since.

Waiting across the street until a group of four wandered away from the building entrance Dek stepped out from the shadows and hurried into the apartment building. Running up the three floors of stairs he banged on the door of 312 to be let in.

Door opening a crack then wide “Well looks like you got into the wet work Dek” JT said stepping out of Dek’s way.

“Yeah I’m gonna ask for a raise for this one; my clothes are ruined.” Dek said with a little bravado in his voice.

“Fat chance” JT slammed the door “That guy paid two hundred and that’s what you get. Getting a blood shower is part of the job.”

Dek showing his middle finger kicking the bathroom door closed. “What a fucking douse.” Dek yelled through the door looking in the mirror.

Two minutes in the shower JT was banging on the door yelling “Mac D is on the phone for you fucker get out here!”

“You fix that problem; you get my paperwork?” Mac D growled in Dek’s ear.

“Yeah yeah I fixed it; ummmm… there was no paperwork, ahhh… nothing.” Dek said, eyes closed, skinny body wrapped tight in a dirty towel.

“You sayin nothin, not a thing, no nothin huh?” Mac D’s voice began to rise. “No money, product nothin, that’s what you tellin me Dek?”

“Fucking guy was clean; maybe someone had already jacked him?” Dek said weakly.

“Where he at?” Mac D clearly livid breaking code talk; his voice ice cold and deadly. Mac D repeated every word Dek said to him; snapping his head to the right two of his Lieutenant’s busted out the door heading to the spot Dek had given.

“You fucking lied to him man, you’re dead fucking dead!” JT yelled into Dek’s face.

I gotta go; “He was covered in blood, he shit himself, it was everywhere. I forgot; he was covered in shit!” Dek screamed throwing on clothes as fast as he could. “I’ll beat them there and clean this mess up.”

Sliding around the corner breathing hard, real hard from running the mile and some to the alleyway Dek only hoped he’d gotten there first. Not seeing anyone he crept down slowing keeping far into the shadows; pulling cardboard and then pallets off the body he pushed his hand into the man’s front pocket.

“You lookin for this Dek; the paperwork Mac D told you to get?” Sammy Tower asked and spit in Dek’s face.

Taking a hard side kick to the face Dek rolled up against the grimy ally wall; jamming the 9mm barrel past Dek’s teeth Sammy pulled the trigger; muffled blast, both men looked for prying eyes.

Derek Priestley Williams became Chicago’s 57th homicide of 2016; his murder didn’t even make the evening news or mentioned in the news papers.

From the Ramblings


Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Night things

I have to admit I was in total disbelief; who would believe me.

My house sits on the top of a little hill, no more than five hundred feet from the top to the bottom. It looks down into the lower neighborhoods then out across the city into the distance; it’s kind of a fish bowl effect from my large windows. I sit on a little out crop of the hill, so my house juts out sitting separately from my neighbors and has an unobstructed view of the lower areas since there aren’t many big trees.

Built in the fifties I have huge pane glass windows in the front room that are six by ten feet across; two of them fill nearly every inch of the room which sits on top of large pilings standing twenty feet high from the sloping ground to the bottom of the house. Looking out from the windows the city spreads out into the distance, it’s quite beautiful on a clear night. I have a telescope that I bought after retiring a few years ago; yes sometimes I use it to spy on the lower neighbors. I don’t look for sexual things, I’m not that screwed up but I do like to see families sitting down to the table and having dinner together and parents helping children with home work in the mid evenings.

I seem to be developing some kind of insomnia; I sleep a couple hours and then wake up, not being able to sleep I sit in the dark of the living room waiting for sleep to call me back to bed. I fill the hours looking down into the city; it’s easy to see the flashing lights of police cars or ambulances doing their jobs. Pushing the magnification to the highest levels I can zoom in on any flashing lights no matter how far out into the city they appear looking at the action as though I’m standing just feet away; that’s a powerful telescope!

Last night I was up at the usual 2am looking at the city in the distance. As I brought the telescope to my eye I caught something move between me and a house a couple hundred feet down the hill from my window; wasn’t anything huge just something stepped between a night light in the sleeping house and my field of vision. I lowered the telescope from the distance, backing the power way up and looked down towards the sleeping house below me. What I saw chilled my soul; moving between the houses was some kind of creature, tall maybe six or seven feet, slender, long legs, long arms; it was moving slowly in the shadows keeping in the darkest places; hard to see. I turned the power higher and the small field of view made it extremely hard to track the thing as it moved slowly then jumping from one building to another quickly covering thirty or forty feet in a flash; there will be no sleep tonight as I try to explain what I’ve seen.

Two weeks; I’m getting better at tracking the strange beings, yes there seems to be a number of them; backing off of the power of the telescope helps when they move quickly between buildings. I haven’t seen anything that they are doing that gives me the feeling of danger; they just prowl through the lower buildings looking in windows and jumping from one house to another always moving in a slow wave staying pretty much in a line as they slink along the houses keeping in a constant line moving through the neighborhood.

Things are different; I’m starting to see small night things now; they must be breeding. They now accompany the larger “adults” as they patrol the neighborhoods. I’ve blacked out my house; no night lights or power on lights from anything electrical now totally dark.

My big windows have lower small windows that pivot from the upper third opening outward letting in fresh air with mosquito mesh to keep the bugs out; as the temperatures of July heats up I’ve been opening them nearly every night. Last night as I watched the night things move across the buildings below my house a small animal maybe a raccoon jumped from the bushes and ran across an open yard; I heard a extremely high pitched squeal almost above my hearing as an adult night thing reacted and pounced from the side of a house onto the frightened animal; within seconds the backyard was full of night creatures feeding on the little animal; things are getting serious, they are clearly hunting. I wonder how I hadn’t recognized the hunting behavior, since the way they move along through the houses it’s clear they must be hunting or did I just see the first time that they caught something in my field of view? I think the latter………..

I’m now up at sunset and sleep only during the day light hours keeping the night things in my view as much as possible. I start seeing them around one thirty in the morning long after the sun has set and the city is sleeping. They always come from the West, sometimes lower along the hill, maybe at the two hundred foot level and sometimes higher up just below my windows, but always from the same direction; they must have a nest hidden out that way.

I’ve seen five more instances of feeding on small animals over the last few days; it’s clear to me I was just missing the feeding with buildings between me and the night things. Lost dog and cat signs are up everywhere.

This can’t stay a secret much longer their numbers have doubled in the last few weeks with the smaller night things gaining the size of the adults.

Standing in the center of one of my huge windows leaning against the glass looking down tracking the night things at 3:30am through ten power binoculars my home phone rang lighting the area behind me with its digital display face. I saw at least five night creatures turn towards my back lighted silhouette in the window. Dropping like a stone below the lower windows I pushed my back against the small pony wall under the windows hopping to be out of sight. I knew my upper shoulder had to be above the lower windows edge, the pony wall is only about sixteen inches tall. Lying there listening for the night creatures I realized I’d dropped right in front of one of the small open windows my shoulder only protected by bug screen in the little window.

I could hear faint scratching along the windows and siding of the house as the night creatures crawled along gripping the house. One of the things sled down from above the big window claws making a high pitched screeching sound like fingernails on a black board; catching its slow decent on the open window its weight pushed the small window down closing it with a click. I could hear claws working to get under the edge of the window trying to open it just inches from my head. With my back against the pony wall I lay looking back into my front room; mirrored in the black TV tube I could see the night things softly glowing green eyes searching my front room for what they’d seen in my windows.

I lay perfectly still holding my breath under the window pushed tight against the short wall for what seemed like hours. Nearly falling asleep I heard one last night creatures nails scrape along the window pane just over my head as it left no more than an hour before sun up; I’d survived my first close encounter. I know my house will be under close observation from here on out.

I’ve decided to take a few days off watching the night things; I had just come out of the back of the house with all the lights off as usual. Slowly coming down the hallway I was just about to step out into the front room when I thought I’d better look before entering just to make sure and stay safe. Carefully peeking over a stand up wood and paper room divider near the back of the room a few feet from the hallway, I slowly peered out the windows into the distance trying to see any movement beyond the dark windows. Seeing nothing I was about to step out when in the lower corner of the left window I just by chance recognized the very faint green glow of two eyes watching my front room; freezing in place I watched for minutes until my feet ached and slowly slid back and away from the front room escaping into the back of the house. Grabbing my Glock I stood with my back against the bedroom wall listening and waiting for the attack to come.

Finally sliding to the floor after a good two hours waiting; I can’t feel my feet any longer, numb; it’s going to be a long night, I’m a prisoner in my own house.

I’m pissed; a prisoner in my own home during the night, but free to roam during the day. I bought a 930 Mossberg semi-auto 12ga shotgun today; two boxes of OO buck to fill out the order. Came with a nice short eighteen and a half inch barrel; guy at the counter said it’d throw a wide pattern with that short barrel; I said perfect.

Moving into my front room checking all the corners for eyes it took a full hour to get behind the telescope; they should be coming out any time now. I moved the telescope to the far left hand side of the windows tight in the corner aiming back across the windows looking as far right in the windows as I could, I wanted to see if I could tell where they were coming from or at least narrow it down some.

I saw the first ones come into the wavering view at 2am the harsh angle looking through the window glass making it hard to focus at the high power setting. Moving the telescope to the maximum edge of the glass I could just make out a line of the night things coming from an old warehouse way down across town in the industrial area. Most of these building were scheduled for demolishing in the next few years as they’d stood falling apart over most of the last decade.

Slowly backing the power down on the telescope as the night things spread out across the city in a steady flow I saw a small group break off from the others as they reached the bottom of my hill. It was clear where they were going as they bound from one house to another making a straight line up the hill towards my house. I quickly left the corner with the telescope and low crawled keeping out of sight of the windows to the safety of the hallway. Peeking carefully over the room divider two night things hung down from the top of one window looking for any movement inside. I heard a screech and both jumped across the window to the left out of my sight; I quickly moved into the bedroom and slowly pulled the shades apart far enough to see outside towards my nearest neighbor’s house. The side of the house was covered with five or six night creatures all pushing and pulling fighting one another around a bedroom window, I could see broken glass shinning in the moon light. They pulled Jim from his bedroom window tearing him to pieces before my eyes; the night creatures pounded their sharp clawed upper arms into his chest and legs driving them through him into the ground. I puked down the wall under the window; one night thing flew to my window as the curtains moved ever so slightly closing.

I wasn’t the only one that had been watching them; Jim’s death saved my life this night.

I hid under the covers clutching my new shotgun to my chest all night planning my attack for the next day. As the sun came up I brought my field glasses up looking at the side of Jim’s house. The window was broken out into a thousand pieces laying in a wide pattern spraying out from the side of the house showing the force it had been ripped from the building. Under the window the grass was torn and trampled but I couldn’t see any sign of blood; they cleaned up every spot and must have carried him off with them.

It was time to get to work; Home Depot, Sears and the nearest gas station selling diesel. My truck bed was stocked full of what I was going to need to bring the war to the creatures in just a few hours. Checking Google earth against where the telescope was pointed it came down to just a few buildings the night things had come out from. I’d narrow it down shortly as I head into town.

I know you’ve been asking yourself one question as I’ve told this story; why didn’t I notify the Authorities and get some help? Well I had a run in the local cops a couple years ago and was labeled a nut, yep a 12-34 a 51-50, a mental. Don’t question it; lots of people putting in a weird complaint are thought of as just plain crazy and they shut the case without thought, I wasn’t going through that again.

Pulling into the deserted industrial area I immediately saw the building I’d been watching through the telescope since it was the only one in the area that had a cupola, three actually making figuring out which building easy. My extra large bolt cutters made simple work of the cheap lock on the double swung gate; I relocked it with the new Sears lock in the hopes of slowing the response time.

The sun was just starting to peek out from the low morning clouds as I parked in front of the old warehouse; my truck hidden in the industrial park by other dilapidated builds ready for the wrecking ball.

Cement then brick changing into corrugated steel and grimy windows nearly six stories tall and a overhang of maybe two feet at the roof line; fifty feet deep and over a hundred feet long, big building.

Empty for decades the corrugated steel was full of rust, the cement and bricks pock marked; so why the huge lock on the front man door? I tried my over sized bolt cutters bought from Sears this morning and they didn’t even put a mark in the damn lock hasp; I’ve got to find a better way into this building. Swinging along the side of the building there must be a back door; delivery entrance with loading docks have the same looking huge locks on them, I’ll never get in this way. Around the back a small single rear door, the door has a small feeble looking rusty lock; scratching my head in wonderment I barely had to squeeze on the bolt cutters and the lock falls to the ground in pieces, amazing.

Running back to the truck I slowly and as quietly as possible pulled the pickup around to the open door; now the hard part, I’ve got to go in and make sure I’m in the right building and if I am, there must be a hundred night things waiting for me inside.

Glock on my hip and shotgun at the ready I step into the gloom of what use to be a small Office; it dawns on me I’m not sure I can hit anything with the shotgun, I’ve never really shot one before, sure I’ve tried one before out on a range throwing clay pigeons of which I hit maybe two out of a full box of shells, I’ll have to hope the guy was right about the spread of the pattern as I move further into the shadowy dark.

The Office area is just a twenty by twelve foot box setting in the center of the large building; coming to the open door leading out into the warehouse it would appear I’m in the right place. The acidic smell hits me like a hammer as I put a hand over my nose and mouth. Feces covers the cement floor in long straight lines running from the far distance past the open door and disappearing into the gloom towards the other end of the building. There is no machinery or boxes just a totally empty huge building with rows of night things shit in perfect rows several inches deep as far as the eye can see; I may puke.

Still a couple feet from the door I listen for any noise; straining to hear anything a large turd hits the cement a foot into the warehouse from the open door splashing a foot high in the gloomy light. I jumped like I was shot had I not had my hand tightly over my nose and mouth I would have screamed; the only thing saving me from the noise I made had to have been the echo of the splash bouncing off the walls of the echoing interior of the large open space; a long line of pee danced along one row of feces in the near distance; I was in the right building for sure.

Backing out of the Office I realized had I been able to break the lock on the front door I would have stepped into the building back lit and in full view of the night things at roost in the top of the building. I walked to the pickup trying to come up with a plan that would work; I’ve got twenty five gallons of diesel, a Glock and a shotgun. The short plan was to pour the diesel all over the building and set the damn thing on fire; good plan but the building is huge and the rafters where the night things are roosting high off the floor. If I can pour all the diesel without getting torn to ribbons the fire will burn so slowly they will just fly out the top and find another building to nest in.

“You’re one brave man mister” Scared me so bad I fell down. “Those fuckers will tear you to pieces” The old hobo looking man said holding his torn and faded hat in both hands not three feet away.

“What the fuck” I said gasping for air. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Yup, figured I would; gotta be quiet around those fuckers.” He said quietly bringing his finger over his lips as he looking up at the high windows. “I been watching them for a good few weeks now; strange fuckers they are; they see you they come right for yah; that’s not to smart just walking in on em’ you know.”

“I know I’m trying to kill them; they killed my neighbor.” I said under my breath.

“Well, they sleep all day don’t make much noise; but you’d better watch out towards night, that’s when they’ll get you.” The old man said in a tired tiny voice. “I see your plan there; that diesel or gas? Gotta get high up where they sleep or forget about it.”

“It’s diesel; you got a plan or are we just going to stand here and talk?” I said getting plain pissed off now that it was becoming clear I wasn’t going to have a heart attack.

“Yup; let me help you get unloaded and I’ll tell you about it.” He said grabbing a five gallon can of diesel out of the bed of my truck. “Not gonna happen until tomorrow morning though; I’d put some dirt on that shiny new lock you put on the gate or someone will start snooping around.”

The old guy was sharper than a tack; he’d been watching them oh right, up close and he knew what he was talking about.

Sitting and having a couple beers at his make shift home two building down from the night things building he’d been living here for the last two years. Lost his small home not being able to afford the taxes on his meager veteran’s retirement he’d been an EOD tech for just over fifteen years in his youth.

“I figure after they all fly out hunting tonight you can finish any leftover with that fancy shotgun; then it’s gonna be a climb up to the rafters in all that shit to set out buckets of diesel we can pour on them when they come home to roost tomorrow.” He said finishing off a sixth can of Bud.

“And how are we going to pour buckets of diesel on them from way up there?” I asked not believing what I was hearing; I might have even rolled my eyes.

His tone turned hard as he looked me in the eye. “You ever hear of tipping a bucket from over a door onto someone with a rope to pull it over with? Well my little home here came with a few thousand feet of small diameter rope ready to use and the building over there is full of small to large buckets.”

“Ummmmm… you have my full attention; sorry” I felt like a fool; an old fool at that.

The last night thing flew out the cupola at just after one am; holding my breath with the shotgun pointing up towards where I hoped any left over’s would come from I switched on the flash light; everything stayed quiet.

“Good now hurry up there and run this rope over something so I can start pulling buckets of diesel up to you; place them in those very top rafters and run rope down the lower rafters over along the wall to the Office area. Last thing we’ll do is tie them to the handles of the buckets.” The old man was back living in his twenties barking orders under his breath and pulling with all he had on those ropes.

The stench was gagging; climbing the ladders to the top of the building was the easy part, the night things crapped further out from the walls and the ladders were clean but dusty. We found areas they mostly roosted in and placed extra buckets in those areas; the cupola got over lapping buckets and those ropes would be pulled first to keep them from getting out there.

I was just finishing tying off the last couple buckets when I heard scratching sounds along the East side of the building; they were coming home. As they climbed the outside of the building I climbed down the inside; they came into the cupola as I carefully rounded the door frame into the little Office area turning off my flash light. Standing panting into my shirt sleeve they poured into the top of the building making a huge racket; falling feces hit the floor sending pools of piss flying into the air, the stench rose in seconds.

Whispering in my ear “Now just stand still and we’ll see if they notice anything; if they do it’s been good knowing you”

Slowly over the next thirty minutes the scratching from climbing night things and fighting over perching space lowered and then settled into near total quiet broken only by shit hitting the floor with raining piss in showers.

We had decided to wait to light the fire until the sun was well up in the sky; his ignition system so simple and easy, a flare ground into powder layered over a single piece of notebook paper with a long string of striker paper pulled by a rope from below would ignite the flare material and burning through the paper would send a cascade of burning flare into the buckets and on down to the floor lighting everything it passed. We triple duplicated them leaving no chance of the diesel not lighting.

The ropes had been carefully pulled through the top of the Office and lined up from the first three igniter ropes to all the bucket ropes; we were ready the sun was slowly coming up.

Climbing ladders all night and after standing waiting for the attack at my home the night before my feet were in agony; I slowly moved through the gloom and sat down on a lone desk pushed into the far corner of the Office to get off my feet. I’d just pulled my feet off the floor when the desk collapsed in a roar; jumping to my feet I ran to the open door into the warehouse; night things were already coming down the side of the walls heading for the crash; slamming the Officer door I grabbed towards the igniter ropes.

“NO don’t; you have to pull them just right” the old man screamed at me. “Get your shotgun he yelled in my face”

I grabbed my shotgun from against the wall next to the only door out as the warehouse door blew open with three night things trying to come through the door at once; the first OO buck round cleared the door way as the igniter ropes were pulled. Cascades of sparks rained down from the rafters; then sheets of flaming diesel as the old man slowly pulled one bucket rope after another moving down the long line of hanging ropes through the ceiling of the Office.

Firing one round after another as the night things fought to get into the Office kept them out and off of us; the open space beyond the door stacked up with bodies. The last rope he pulled was just in front of the exit door leading out of the building; pulling this one rained diesel onto the top of the Office ceiling. Pulling hard on the rope I could hear flaming diesel rain down on the rotting ceiling over my head; one last shot through the warehouse door and we jumped out the exit door slamming it behind us; the Office burst into flames.

We ran for cover in his make shift home; standing at the door we watched as the entire building burst into flames. Flames were coming out every little hole in the corrugated steel; the wind was pushing the flames back inside making the fire roar with extra air. My ears hurt from the high pitched screaming of the night things as the building buckled and sank into its self.

“I gotta get out of here before the cops show up” The old man said and disappeared into the gloomy building he’d called home and was gone.

I had other things to do; getting my truck I pulled around to the front of the burning warehouse far away from the flames. Standing next to my truck with my back to the main gate I waited until two fire trucks pulled up at the gate and started working on the lock and chain. I raised my shotgun and fired two rounds into the flaming building; worked like a charm, the firemen jumped back into their trucks and got the hell away from me leaving the area completely.

Ten minutes later a swat vehicle showed up at the gate yelling for me to drop the guns; I laid my shotgun on the pavement amongst the weeds and debris, pulled my Glock from its holster never looking over my shoulder towards them and stepped a number of steps backwards away from the guns and laid on the pavement with my hands behind my head. Took them another ten minutes to get the lock and chain off the gate the whole time screaming that if I moved they’d shoot me; Oh I wasn’t going to move I was just letting the building burn to the ground.

I now sit in jail waiting for my trial for arson; they don’t have a clue why I burned the warehouse down and I’d end up in the funny farm if I tried to explain it. I have no idea if we got all the night things or not; I think we did. The old man is a genius without him I would have failed; I think he got away clean and I’m not about to tell anyone I had any help, now you keep my story to yourself and don’t let anyone else know what I’ve told you; it’ll be our little secret.

From the Ramblings


Authors note: A decade or more ago I read a story which mine mirrors to a certain extent; I can’t find the old story or know who the writer was. I think my story is unique enough not to be plagiarism so much since I can only remember the first part of the old story. If you know the story I’m talking about please leave me a note so I can read it again and make right if it’s just too damn close to the same story line.