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Authors: Brandon Massey

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BOOK: Dark Corner
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Those are only the ones that we know about, too, he reminded himself. Not everyone in town had attended the
meeting, and even among those who attended, he was sure
that some of the people had declined to write the name of an
ill person on the list. Jackson's confession about vampires
notwithstanding, some people in town were suspicious of
authority and anything that smacked of government intervention. They would keep their sick at home and care for
them in secret, and would not realize their mistake until it
was too late.

One of the toughest truths of serving in law enforcement
was that no matter how hard he worked, he could not save
everyone. Sometimes you showed up at the scene too late to
prevent a tragedy; other times, you didn't receive a crucial
tip until the damage had been done; often, the victims themselves were participants in their own demise, refusing to call
police when they most needed to, or ignoring the helpful advice that you gave them. Accepting that he could not save
the world had been a difficult lesson for Jackson to digest,
but once he did, his life got much easier. Nevertheless, at a
time like this, he wished he could impose martial law for the
town's own good.

And wouldn't that move win him favor when the time came for his annual performance review! The county sheriff
and the mayor had already reprimanded him for his "ridiculous" speech at the church, and made it clear that if the shit
hit the fan, he was going to take the heat. But interestingly,
they did not intervene. Jackson understood why: they were
scared shitless and wanted him to do the dirty work. He didn't
mind. He wanted them to stay out of his way.

He wanted his loved ones out of the way, too. After the
meeting, he had asked Belinda Moss to leave town for a few
days, for her own safety, and she had agreed to stay with her
brother in Memphis. As for Jahlil, he had assigned him to
the back-team stationed at police headquarters. He hoped
his son stayed put and didn't try to be a hero.

David came up to Jackson. Jackson was more impressed
with the kid at every turn. He had handled himself well
when pulling together the citizen defense teams, guiding
them with calm authority. Jackson had heard from his own
father that the Hunters were some tough bastards, and this
one here was making good on the family's reputation.

"Looks like everyone is here," David said. He looked at
the dimming sky. "Night sure is coming fast"

"I don't like the look of those clouds, either," Jackson
said. "Thunderstorm's gonna hit soon."

There were seven of them on the team; Jackson liked to
think it would be lucky for them. The team included himself,
David, and Nia; old Mac, the grocery store owner and war
vet; Tanya Lester, who coached volleyball and taught physical education at the high school; Ben Jones, a thick-bodied
construction worker; and Bertha Clark, a square-shouldered,
middle-aged lady who worked as a security guard at a casino
in Tunica. A nice mix of folks.

The mood was jovial. They milled between the cars, chatting and joking. They might have been a bunch of friends on
their way to bowling league night. Jackson had a good idea
of why they were so upbeat: they were psyching themselves
up for the horrible job that lay ahead of them.

"Time for us to round up," Jackson said to David. He walked
to the center of the group. The friendly chatter ceased, everyone's face suddenly serious.

"Folks, it's time for us to do what we came together to
do," Jackson said. "Got about an hour of daylight left. Not a
lot of time, but enough. Everyone ready?"

"Yes, sir," they said, in unison. Old Mac saluted Jackson.

Mac owned a Dodge Ram pickup truck. Jackson asked
him if all of them could pile inside the truck, and Mac was
happy to oblige.

"Everyone 'cept me and Hunter climb up in Mac's truck,"
Jackson said. "Put our equipment in there, too. Hunter and I
are gonna lead the way in my patrol car."

The crew loaded the duffel bags and weapons in the cargo
area of the pickup and then climbed in, two people inside the
cab and the other three sitting on the flatbed. Jackson and
Hunter got in the cruiser.

The two-vehicle caravan pulled out of the parking lot
and onto Main Street, heading east, toward the Mason
place.

"Need to talk to you 'bout something, that's why I wanted
you to ride up with me," Jackson said. He was figuring out
how to work his way into this discussion. He was about to
ask Hunter a favor he had never asked of anyone.

"What's up?" David said.

Jackson spoke carefully. "Got an idea about why you
came to our town in the first place. You're looking to learn
about your daddy, a reasonable thing for a boy to want to
know. Am I right?"

"I don't know where you're going with this, but yeah,
you're right. That's why I moved here"

"I got a point to make, hang on. What I'm getting at is,
you understand how important it is for a father and his boy to have a good relationship. Ain't nothing like a strong bond
between a father and son. Even if a boy ain't had the benefit
of a decent relationship with his daddy, one day, he'll usually
wish he had. Know where I'm coming from?"

"Too well," David said. Pain flickered in his eyes. Jackson
had yanked a nerve.

Jackson returned his attention on the road. "My boy and
I, we don't get along too well. Cancer took my wife a couple
years ago, and things ain't been the same since with us.
Can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. He'd rather hang out
with his knuckle-head friends than spend a minute with me.
Grades been low; he don't wanna work nowhere. I try to talk
to him and it don't do any good."

"Lots of teenage boys go through that phase," David said.
"He'll grow out of it."

"Maybe he will, if someone's around to catch him when
he stumbles every now and then," Jackson said. "But if ain't
no one there for him, no telling what can happen. In my line
of work, I see what happens to young men who ain't got no
guidance."

"I don't get it," David said. "You're here for your son,
even though he doesn't appreciate it right now. But you'll be
there when he needs you"

"That's what I'm getting to. Listen, I don't know you that
well. But I'm a damn good judge of character. You're a good
man, Hunter. I might be out of line asking you this, but I
ain't got no one else I can ask. My family's scattered around
here and there, and we don't really talk much"

"What do you want me to do?" David said.

Jackson's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "If I
don't get through the mess that we're trying to do here, I
want you to look out for my son. I'm not asking you to be his
daddy. Be his friend, a big brother. Check on him sometimes. He's gonna need someone like you around, Hunter.
He doesn't know it yet, but he will."

His eyes thoughtful, David gazed out the window. They
rode in silence for a minute.

"Okay," David said. "If it comes to that, and I hope to God
it doesn't, I'll do it."

"Appreciate it." Jackson's grip relaxed on the steering
wheel, and he enjoyed a momentary sense of relief.

The tension returned, but for a different reason, when his
car began to climb the steep hill on the eastern edge of town.
Ahead, at the crest of the rise, Jubilee loomed.

"Is it only me, or does the house look bigger?" David
said.

"It ain't only you. I feel it, too. That's fear talking to us,
Hunter. Frightening things look bigger sometimes. Makes
you sort of feel like a kid again, doesn't it?"

They turned onto the road that ran in front of the property. When Jackson and Jahlil had left this place, a few hours
ago, Dudu's patrol car had been stuck in a ditch.

The car was gone.

A crazy image, disturbingly vivid, flashed through Jackson's
mind: Dudu, his face pale and bloodless, dragging himself
to the vehicle, getting in, and cruising around town, fangs
dripping with saliva, clawed hands flexing on the steering
wheel...

Cut it out. Pearl said Dudu was dead.

He looked around. Then he saw the deputy's cruiser. It
was parked near the mansion.

What the hell? Who had moved the car? Frowning, he
parked on the shoulder of the road. Mac parked behind him.

The wind harried the surrounding trees. Distantly, thunder grumbled.

"Be careful getting out," Jackson said. "Remember those
dogs I told you about"

"Gotcha."

Jackson checked to ensure that his .357 was loaded, then
he climbed out the car.

It was time to roll.

David's impression that Jubilee looked larger was not a
temporary illusion. The mansion genuinely appeared to have
grown bigger since he had last seen it, like a magical evil
castle in a fairy tale. The rooftops seemed to pierce the underbelly of the stormy sky.

"The house looks huge, doesn't it?" Nia said, when she
got out of Mac's truck.

"You know, I really hope you're able to read my mind like
this when this is over," he said.

Together, the team unloaded the cargo from the pickup's
flatbed. Mac strapped the handheld flamethrower across his
shoulders, the fuel-filled cylinder tanks weighted on his
back. Back at the station, Mac had taught David how to use
the flamethrower. There was always the possibility that Mac
would be injured-or worse-during their mission, and
David thought it was a good idea for someone else to understand how to wield the powerful weapon.

Each team member carried a handgun; Jackson had made
sure that each person on this crew would be armed. They
took the water guns, too, holstering them in their pants.

"I feel like I'm in a horror flick," Ben said. He winked at
Tanya, the gym teacher. "I've been told that I favor Wesley
Snipes, you know."

"Then you woke up," Tanya said. They laughed.

"No more time for jokes," Bertha Clark said. "It's getting
dark. I don't want to be in there at night."

"Then let's hurry and hammer out our plan of approach,"
David said. He was getting antsy, too. It was already a quarter to eight, and the thickening blanket of storm clouds was
another ominous sign.

They congregated on the side of the road, opposite the estate's iron gates.

"How do we wanna take down this shit hole?" Mac said.
"I'll take the point, 'cause I got old Suzie here and don't none of
you wanna get in her way. Everyone else can follow after me ""

"How about we send a scout to check out the place?" Ben
said.

"Bad idea," Jackson said. "We lost my deputy that way. I
ain't letting nobody go up there alone."

"The deputy went inside through a door on the side or the
back of the house, according to Jahlil," David said. "He
never came out. I vote that we go through the front door.
Some of the other doors might lead into traps. Once we get
inside, we'll split up, and go floor by floor."

"All right," Jackson said. "Let's move, folks."

Here we go, David thought. We're moving past the point
of no return.

David pushed open the gate. He motioned for Mac to
enter first. Everyone else filed in behind him.

They walked on the gravel lane that twisted toward the
house. David and Nia were side by side, Ben and Tanya were
paired together, and Jackson and Bertha brought up the rear.

"There's dog shit all over the place." Ben wrinkled his
nose. "Sure am glad I wore my work boots. I should've
brought a gas mask, though"

Large, stinking clumps of excrement littered the yard and
the path. But other than the crap, there was no sign of the
vampiric dogs. Dense shadows lurked under the trees, and
the area was silent, the only sounds the blowing of the wind,
the faraway rumble of thunder, and their footsteps crunching
through gravel.

"I'm doing the very thing I said I'd never do again," Nia
said, close to David. "Going back to this place." Her hands
gripped the gun so tightly it seemed that her veins would
burst.

They passed under the boughs of the giant tree from which,
according to Franklin's history lesson, Edward Mason had
been hung by his slaves and left to swing in the wind.

A chill chugged through David.

A police car was parked at the end of the driveway. Dried
mud streaked the fenders, tires, and doors.

"My deputy's car," Jackson said. "Was stuck in the ditch
by the road back there earlier today. I don't know who the
hell moved it up here" He peered through a window. "Ain't
nothing out the ordinary in there. Let's keep on ""

David noted that the Lexus SUV was gone. Did that mean
anything?

They trudged forward. Mac set his boot on the sagging
veranda step.

"We should burn down this place," Nia said. "There's no
reason to go inside. Just burn it down"

"I wish we could," David said. "But you know we can't.
Not yet"

They ascended the short flight of porch stairs and huddled outside the door.

Dead leaves and branches covered the veranda's hardwood floor. Vines of kudzu twined around the thick white
columns.

BOOK: Dark Corner
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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