Cold Sanctuary (John Decker Series Book 2) (11 page)

24

Verne Nolan leaned on the counter and watched Decker leave. He had wondered how long it would take the man to show up looking for a gun. Decker was something of a celebrity in Shackleton ever since the last town council meeting when the girl that ran the local paper, Mina, showed up and suggested they bring him in.

Monster hunter.

That was the term she used to describe him. Decker didn’t look much like a monster hunter, even though Verne had no idea what such a person would look like.

It was crazy. They already had a perfectly good sheriff, so why bother spending money on some guy that couldn’t even keep his own job down south? The whole town was nuts, talking about the Qalupalik like it was a real living thing. Verne didn’t believe in fairy tales, and that was exactly what the Qalupalik was – a bedtime story to scare children.

Even so, there was no denying that the recent deaths had worked folk up into a panic, which probably explained their eagerness to jump on the John Decker bandwagon. People were funny like that. One little thing they couldn’t understand, or deal with, and they would clutch at anything that might offer some salvation, no matter how ridiculous it was.

Verne shook his head and rubbed his eyes, forcing back a yawn. He hadn’t slept much the night before. He fought the temptation to close early, climb up the stairs to the apartment above the store and flop down on the bed. A few weeks ago he might have done just that, but not now. The one good thing that had come out of the whole situation was his bottom line. Fear and paranoia were great for gun sales, and right now there was no shortage of either in Shackleton.

Verne chuckled to himself and bent under the counter, to the mini-fridge where he kept bottles of iced coffee. He reached in and snagged one, then twisted the top off. He was about to lift the bottle to his lips when the door opened, the bell above jangling to let him know there was a customer. He placed the bottle on the counter and watched as a burly fisherman entered the store. The man ignored the tackle and rods, the bait, and other fishing supplies, and walked up to the counter. He peered down at the row of handguns in the display case, his breath fogging the glass.

Verne waited, watching the man examine the firearms. Let him take his time. When he made up his mind, Verne would be there, ready to sell another gun, and a little more protection against the fearsome Qalupalik.

25

Decker walked through town, ignoring the cold drizzle that hung in the air. He felt better now that he had a gun.

He had nothing to do until the meeting with Mina at midnight, and so far he hadn’t talked to anyone about the killings. Perhaps it was time for a little investigative work. Up ahead was the bar he’d seen the day before, when Hayley drove him to the towers, and it seemed like a perfect place to do a little digging. Besides, he was thirsty, and a cold beer would go down well.

He reached the barroom door and pulled it open, happy to find that the temperature inside the bar was considerably warmer than the temperature outside. Shaking off the raindrops from his coat, Decker approached the bar, careful to keep the package with the gun inside hidden from view.

“Hello there.” The bartender was a jolly man with a bright red face and a head as bald as they came. “What can I get you?”

“Beer.” Decker glanced around. The bar was small, with a Wurlitzer jukebox standing in one corner, and a pinball machine in the other. A darts board hung on the wall opposite the jukebox. The place was dark and dingy, but it had the feel of a local watering hole about it, somewhere welcoming and friendly.

“Draught or bottle?” The bartender asked.

“Draught, please.” Decker watched two burly men playing darts, a group of their friends laughing and hollering with each throw.

“That’ll be five dollars even.”

Decker reached into his pocket and handed the bartender a ten. He was still watching for his change when he was approached by one of the men watching the darts game.

“You’re that guy the town council brought in, aren’t you?” The man’s accent was thick.

“Yes.” Decker turned in the direction of the voice. “John Decker.”

“Decker, that’s it. The monster hunter.” The man laughed, a deep rumble that shook his frame. “I’m Clint.”

“Pleased to meet you Clint. I take it you know Mina.”

“Huh?”

“Mina, the girl that runs the town paper.” Decker took a sip of his beer.

“Never met her face to face. We tend to keep to ourselves up here, you know.” He slapped Decker on the back. “She was talking at the meeting when we decided to bring you in. Cute girl. She thought you would be able to catch whatever is attacking folk around here.”

“So I’ve heard,” Decker said. “Speaking of that, what do you think
is
killing people?”

“Me?” Clint scratched his head. “I couldn’t rightly say. Must be some sort of animal, I bet.”

“Like the Qalupalik?” Decker studied the other man’s face for any sign of a reaction. There was none.

“I see you’ve been listening to the stories.”

“That name has been coming up a lot.”

“People take their superstitions seriously around here.”

“And you?” Decker pressed. “Do you take the Qalupalik seriously?”

“You might think me odd, but yes, I do.” Clint leaned on the bar. “I grew up in this town. My father was a fisherman, and his father before him, and let me tell you, I’ve seen some strange things in my time. This place isn’t like the big city. There are truths here that most folk don’t want to admit.”

“But a monster dragging people off?” Decker said. “Isn’t it more likely to be a bear?”

“You don’t believe in monsters?”

“I believe in monsters,” Decker said. “I just think that the easiest explanation is often the right one.”

“Bears don’t kill like this thing does.” Clint shuddered. “The Qalupalik has been a part of life around here for centuries. It goes way back to the Inuit that lived on these shores. A story doesn’t last that long unless there’s a truth to it, Mr. Decker.”

“And what do the others think?” Decker nodded toward the group playing darts. “Do they believe?”

“Some do.” Clint nodded. “Others like to pretend they don’t, but deep down, in their hearts, they know what is out there. Now there are some, newer transplants to our town, that scoff at the legends.”

“Is Sheriff Wilder one of those people?”

“Wilder is an idiot.”

“Agreed, but does he believe in the Qalupalik?”

“Not so much. He thinks the old ways are stupid, that our superstitions are a bunch of bull. He’s a very narrow minded man, Mr. Decker, and that can be a dangerous thing.”

“Yes it can.” An image of Annie Doucet, frail and naked, lying on the floor dead, came into his mind. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he would never have believed that she had turned herself into the loup garou.

“Wilder doesn’t think you should be here.”

“I gathered that.” Decker took another swig of his beer.

“He’s in the minority,” Clint said. “I want you to know that.”

“Thank you.” Decker replied.

“Anyway, I should be getting back to the game.” Clint glanced over his shoulder at the darts match. “I’m up next.”

“Sure thing.” Decker extended his hand. It was good to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Clint took Decker’s hand and shook before turning away. After a few steps he turned back. “Oh, Mr. Decker?”

“Yes?”

“You be careful out there, you hear?”

“I will.”

“Just keep an open mind. The Qalupalik is not to be taken lightly. Some myths are real, but I think you know that already.”

“I do.” Decker nodded. “And I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Clint smiled for a moment, and then it was gone. “I’d hate for you to wind up dead. Then we’d have to rely on that jerk Wilder to protect us, and he hasn’t done a great job so far.”

“I understand.” Decker said, as the fisherman turned back to his game of darts.

“Another one?” The bartender asked, glancing down at Decker’s empty glass.

“No, thanks.” Decker suddenly felt weary. If he left now he could get a few hours of sleep before meeting Mina. He pushed his glass across the bar, and turned toward the door. When he opened it, the rain was coming down hard. For a moment he considered staying in the bar, but then he turned his collar up, and stepped out in the direction of the towers.

26

At five minutes to midnight Decker left his apartment and made his way down to the lobby of the south tower, with his newly acquired gun tucked into a shoulder holster under his coat. The hallways were deserted at this time of night, and he found it easy to reach the ground floor without running into anyone. When he stepped out of the elevator and looked around, he saw no sign of Mina either.

The lobby was dark and empty.

Had she decided not to come, and thought better of her agreement to help him? He would not blame her if she had, although it would make his job much harder, especially since he did not know where she wanted to take him, and finding out how the killer escaped the scene was crucial if he was to get to the bottom of the mystery.

He turned back toward the elevator, wondering if he should ride back up and find her, go to her apartment and make sure she was okay, but then he heard a noise in the shadows behind him. When he turned toward it he saw Mina emerge from the darkness of the corridor they had used earlier. She was wearing black from head to toe and clutched a large flashlight in her hand. As she strode toward him, the front of her jacket parted for a moment and he saw a wicked l
l
ooking hunting knife in a sheaf on her belt. So he wasn’t the only one who felt better when armed.

“I didn’t think you were here,” Decker said as she crossed the lobby in his direction. “I thought you might have changed your mind about our little excursion.”

“Sorry,” Mina said. “I wanted to make sure it was you before I showed myself.”

“Who else would it be?”

“I don’t know, but someone broke into my apartment this afternoon while we were trying to get into the basement.”

“What?” Decker was shocked. “Did they take anything?”

“Not that I could see. Everything looked normal when I got back, even the door was closed and locked with no sign that anyone had forced it open, but someone was there. My books were moved. The one I was reading last night was at the bottom of the pile.”

“Maybe you moved the books around and forgot.”

“No. Someone was in the apartment with me. They snuck out while my back was turned. I sensed that something was off, and when I turned, the front door was ajar. I know I closed it, so that could only mean one thing.”

“Did you call Wilder, file a police report?”

“Hell, no. If it has something to do with us, what we’re doing, I don’t want the sheriff poking around it. But I also thought it would be wise to exercise a little caution. That’s why I hid until I could make sure it was really you.”

“I understand,” Decker said. “Are you sure you still want to do this? I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“It’s fine.” Mina pushed past him and opened the main door. A blast of arctic air screeched in. “It’s not far to the other building. Stay close and follow me.”

She disappeared through the doors and was soon swallowed up by the darkness beyond. Decker reached under his coat until his hand found the grip of the gun. He unclipped the holster strap that held the weapon in place, made sure the pistol could be drawn at a moments’ notice, and then, satisfied, stepped out into the night.

27

It was colder than Decker expected out in the open. He pulled his coat tight and followed Mina across the wide-open space between the two tower blocks. He had no idea where she was taking him, but given the direction they were headed in, he assumed that their destination was the unused and run down north tower.

Within a few moments he was proven right.

Mina came to a stop under the shadow of the building and waited for him to join her before she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. “We are going to have to break in. You don’t have any objections to that, do you?”

“You do know that I used to be a police officer, don’t you?” Decker replied.

“Why do you think I’m asking?” Mina said. “I’d hate to end up in jail because you had a crisis of conscience and turned me in.”

“I think I can turn a blind eye.” Decker wished she would hurry up and commit the crime so that they could get out of the biting wind. “Can we just do this thing?”

“Your wish is my command.” Mina moved off again, leading them along the base of the building, past the main entrance, until they came to a row of low windows. She reached under her coat and produced the knife he’d glimpsed earlier. For a moment he thought that she would use the hilt to smash a pane of glass, but instead she inserted the tip of the blade between the outer and inner window frames, then pulled down until the window started to rise a few inches. She slipped the knife back under her coat and gripped the inside frame, pushing with the palms of her hands. It resisted for a moment and then the window slid upward until there was gap big enough to climb through.

“Voila,” she beamed, looking toward Decker.

“Good job.”

“Thank you. Not that it was hard. These old windows are half rotted and they didn’t even bother to lock them when they abandoned the building.” She gripped the window ledge and heaved herself up, then wriggled through the opening. Decker lost sight of her for a moment, but then she poked her head back out. "Are you coming in or what?”

“This is a bad idea,” Decker mumbled under his breath as he mounted the sill and dropped down the other side. He clicked his flashlight to the on position, the wide beam of light revealing a room strewn with decaying paperwork and several rusting filing cabinets. A lone office desk stood in one corner, the drawers sagging, a thick coating of dust covering the whole thing. A vintage rotary dial telephone was positioned atop the desk, waiting for a phone call that would never come.

“This way.” Mina turned her own flashlight on and motioned toward an open door at the far end of the room. “Watch your step. This place is falling apart.”

“I can see that.” Decker followed, careful to avoid the mummified corpse of a mouse. “Are you sure this place is safe?”

“No.” Mina walked through the door into a long corridor that had once been painted a bright white but now looked like it had some sort of weird skin disease, with chips of flaking paint curling away from the rotten drywall. “It wasn’t safe ten years ago when I used to sneak in here, and I’m sure it hasn’t gotten any better over time. They should tear the building down, really, but they can’t.”

“Why?” Decker kept close, not wanting to get lost inside the crumbling building.

“Asbestos. The place is full of it.” Mina pushed through a set of double doors into a wider space that looked like it might have once been a waiting area. Several hard plastic chairs lined the wall, their metal legs rusting through, the shiny veneer of electroplated chrome long gone, the seats brittle and faded. “They would have to strip the bad stuff out before they could even think about taking the building down. Not that it matters. If they wait long enough it will come down all on its own.”

“And you used to play in here as a kid?” Decker wondered what kind of life it must be in this out of the way corner of the world when a crumbling old building was a good option as a place to hang out.

“Sometimes,” Mina said. “We would climb in through a window, like we just did, and pretend we were explorers. Other times we just looked for cool shit to take. There are lots of neat things lying around, real vintage items. If it weren’t for the mold and decay a lot of this crap would be worth some money online.”

They came to another set of doors and pushed past them into an expansive lobby area with a bank of elevators occupying the far wall. Decker swung his flashlight around, taking stock of their surroundings. A round reception desk took up the middle of the space, the top littered with debris where part of the false ceiling had collapsed. Beyond that, the room was empty, stripped of almost everything, a ghostly shell of the place it must have been during its heyday. Decker suppressed a shudder.

“Over here.” Mina turned left, passed the elevators, and led them into a small dark corridor that ended in a metal doorway that looked almost identical to the one they had passed through to get to the stairwell in the south tower. This one was in much worse condition, standing open at an odd angle, hanging from a single hinge.

They passed through the opening and descended the stairs, their footfalls loud in the deserted stairwell, until they reached a door marked B2. Unlike its counterpart in the other tower, this door did not have a shiny new padlock attached to it. Mina reached her hand out and touched the handle. No sooner had she done so than the door swung inward with a groan.

Decker ignored the tingle of fear creeping up his spine. Instead he focused on the job at hand, turning his flashlight toward the opening. Despite this he could not see much of anything in the gloom except a few pieces of machinery that looked like older versions of the generators in the other tower.

“This way.” Mina stepped over the threshold into the blackness, the beam of her own flashlight bobbing around, playing over the old equipment as she moved further into the room.

Decker took a deep breath and followed.

The basement smelled bad, like something had crawled in there and died. The floor was wet, with several large puddles pooling in places where the concrete was cracked and broken. More than once Decker ducked to avoid a low pipe or beam that threatened to give him a nasty concussion. On both sides they were flanked by the remains of large fifties era power plants that must once have hummed with life, but now sat idle and decayed, their dials and switches long frozen in place. Some were missing doors or panels, their innards exposed, revealing a mass of wiring, much of which hung out in a tangled mess. Broken glass crunched underfoot, some of which Decker assumed had come from the scores of dials, the rest of which might be the remains of vacuum tubes pulled from inside the machines by vandals. That those with less than honorable intentions had visited this place was evidenced by the numerous pieces of graffiti sprayed across what remained of the generators. Some of it looked very old, but not all of it, leading Decker to the conclusion that Mina’s generation were not the only kids drawn to the crumbling building.

“Are we close?” Decker was anxious to see the third way into the south tower basement.

“I think so,” Mina said. “It’s been a long time since I was here. It should be just over here.” She turned right, leading Decker between two of the enormous power generators, until they came to yet another metal door with several words stenciled upon its surface. It took Decker a moment to decipher the faded text, but then he realized what it said.

South Tower Access Tunnel

So this must be how the killer had gotten in and out of the basement without being detected. That led Decker to another unsettling thought. What if the killer was still around? It might be watching them right now. A vision of the creature Hayley had described earlier that day flashed through his mind, and he shuddered, a chill running through him. Almost out of instinct he reached under his coat and drew the pistol.

Mina looked back toward him, her eyes growing wide. “What are you doing?” She stared at the gun, a glimmer of fear on her face.

“Just being careful.” Decker made sure the safety was off. The last thing he wanted was to run into a cold-blooded killing machine and not be prepared. “Don’t worry, I have used one of these before, you know.”

“I don’t like guns.” Mina turned away from him.

“But you’re okay with carrying a big ass knife?”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how,” Decker replied.

“Guns make it too easy to kill people,” Mina said. “I just don’t like them.”

“Hopefully the killer feels the same way,” Decker said.

“Just keep that thing pointed away from me, okay?” Mina took hold of the door handle and pulled, grunting as the heavy door moved toward her, swinging free of its frame. Beyond the door was a long dark shaft. Mina stood at the entrance to the tunnel and shone her flashlight into the darkness. “I haven’t been down here in years so I have no idea how safe this tunnel is.”

“Only one way to find out.” Decker stepped past her, deciding to take the lead despite his growing feeling of unease. “Let’s take a look inside.”