Lethal Circuit (33 page)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, locations, media, corporations, institutions, organizations and incidents in this novel are the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, are used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual conduct. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and/or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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***

About the Author:

A former television writer, Lars Guignard is a graduate of both McGill University and the American Film Institute in Los Angeles. Lars's work can be seen on television screens across the globe in series as varied as
Beastmaster
,
Big Wolf on Campus
, and
Mentors
. A member of the Writer's Guild of Canada, Lars's work has also been produced for film and published in magazines.
 

Ever since attending high school in the Indian Himalayas at the age of fourteen, Lars has been an avid backpacker and traveler. Lars now makes his home in the Pacific Northwest where he is busy completing the second Michael Chase thriller for release in early 2012.
 

Connect with Me Online:

My blog:
www.larsguignard.com
.

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(A STRANGE INVESTIGATION)

A Novella by

Lars Guignard

A scientist is missing...

Alaskan fishermen are getting their fingers bitten off...

And the fish we eat is at the root of a conspiracy that will change us all.

Paranormal detective Sterling Strange faces his most horrifying case yet.  Alaskan fishermen are getting their fingers bitten off.  Soon after, they disappear.  Sterling's quest to determine the fate of missing men takes him to a wilderness fish farm.  But the investigation takes a back seat to survival when Sterling finds himself next on the fish farmer's list.

BROOD
is a 20,000 word novella that takes the reader on a wild and frightening ride deep into the wilderness where fish are being bred for more than their meat.

Readers praise
BROOD
:

"This is a novella for all seasons. Stephen King watch out!"

"This was quite possibly the coolest novella I've ever read. Interesting characters, gripping plot -- can't wait to read more from this writer!"

Read an excerpt from
BROOD.

(A STRANGE INVESTIGATION)

A Novella

By Lars Guignard

I
T
WAS
A
grey day on the Pacific, the sun hidden behind progressive banks of low purple cloud. Rocking gently among the forested islands, a wooden fishing boat plied its trade. The forty-foot boat rose and fell on the swells, its big rear drum humming as it hauled in the day’s catch. On deck, a young fisherman in full foul weather gear and thick rubber gloves removed the catch as it was drawn in. He went by the name of Jay and he had seen something in the net that bothered him a great deal. One of the silver salmon he had been tossing into the hold had been ripped entirely in half.

“Some kind of thing's been at it again,” Jay said.

Up front in the wheelhouse, the wizened captain sighed. His name was Max and he had been through this before with his deckhand. The kid was constantly complaining. “Ain’t nothing but the new net,” Max said.

Jay did his best to accept Max’s words as he removed the mutilated salmon from the black nylon mesh. Then, the electric drum wound to a standstill. They used the large aluminum drum to wind in the fishing net and it looked like the mechanism was jammed up again. Jay made his way up to the drum and fiddled with the lever. As he worked on it, there was a ripple in the inky black water below. It looked like a small black-tipped fin gliding toward the stern of the boat. But Jay was preoccupied. All he saw was the drum and the gears driving it as he struggled to free up the mechanism.
 

“Got it,” Jay said.

The drum started with a grind and Jay returned to his work at the stern of the boat. The drum wound up a few more feet of the huge gill net, then ground to a halt for a second time. It was starting to look like the problem was with the net. It was hung up on something. To add insult to injury, there was another half-eaten salmon caught just below the waterline. It was hard enough to make a living out here without something eating your catch, Jay thought. He reached into the inky black water to release the dead fish. Jay grasped the mutilated salmon by the gills to remove it. Too bad, it was a really nice catch. Maybe forty pounds. Worth good money if it hadn’t been bitten in half. Jay held the half-fish in the black water about to let it go. Instead he screamed.
 

“Damn it all to hell!”
 

 
Jay’s features contorted with pain. Something had clamped on to him. He wrenched his hand from the water. But whatever had bitten him, it was too late. Jay stared down in horror to see that his two middle fingers were missing, blood streaming down his bright yellow glove.

•
 
•
 
•

S
EVERAL
MILES
AWAY
, up a wilderness fjord, a ramshackle ocean fish farm sat anchored two hundred feet from the shore. The fish farm was comprised of two and a half acres of galvanized docks with a two-story feed barge anchored at one end. The docks supported the deep nets which held the fish farm’s stock. On these same docks, the fish farmer, a rough looking woman named Bergit, plied her trade. Bergit was no more than a few inches over five feet tall and almost as broad, but despite her years, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. She was a woman accustomed to hard work and long days, a woman who possessed the kind of strength that couldn’t be bought in a gym.
 

Bergit focused straight ahead as she stalked the length of the metal dock in her patched rain gear and giant rubber boots. She walked as though she was expecting someone, or something. A twelve-inch gutting knife hung from her meaty hand, and as she strode, she saw what she had been waiting for. The black-tipped fin. Without breaking her stride, Bergit reached into the dark ocean, and in one smooth move, scooped a three-foot dogfish out by the tail. The dogfish, really a vicious cold water shark, bucked violently, but Bergit was more violent still. In a strong, fluid motion, she smacked the dogfish's head against the metal dock and slit its white belly wide open with her knife. Without hesitation she reached into the shark’s stomach and pulled out two bloody fingers. Bergit calmly inspected the fingers as if she'd been expecting the delivery. Then she kicked the eviscerated, still quivering dogfish into the ocean and walked back down the dock.
 

A
CROSS
THE
COUNTRY
, and a world away, Private Investigator Sterling Strange sat quietly behind his thick oak door, staring at his iPad. Outside the double-hung window, the traffic of lower Manhattan crawled beneath his tiny Chinatown office. Sterling wore a white t-shirt and jeans. Casual day at the office. Of course every day was casual day when you were the boss. Sterling was in his mid-thirties and in decent shape. He was six feet two inches tall and about a hundred and eighty-five pounds. His eyes, the last time he checked, were blue, and his dark hair, which he still proudly possessed, showed only a hint of grey. Sterling considered himself young enough to still care about what the world threw at him, but old enough not to get too worked up about it. He used to get worked up about it, really worked up, but that was a lifetime ago, back in law school, back when a single, simple event had altered the course of his life. Now that it was behind him, investigations, specifically investigations on the unusual end of the spectrum, were his business. And today he’d landed a case that more than fit the bill.

The client had stepped out of his office more than two hours ago, but Sterling still reviewed the details of the case. On his brightly lit iPad screen sat an image of an abandoned fishing boat washed up on shore with two State Troopers investigating. Sterling flipped the image to another shot of a similarly abandoned vessel. He paused on the photo, taking a moment to reflect. It was the old debate he had with himself before every case. He knew he’d make better money if he took on more of the standard P.I. fare: cheating wives and insurance scams and the like. Those cases generally paid more, but the truth was they just weren’t as interesting to him. Besides, if he were to do that he might as well get out of the P.I. game entirely. Put his law degree to work at a Midtown firm. His very proper mother had been hounding him for years to do just that. No, Sterling thought. He’d keep investigating the cases he did, the weird ones that nobody else wanted, until such a time came that doing so just didn’t make sense anymore. Or he got abducted by little green men. Until then, he’d plod along. One case at a time.

There was a half-knock at the door and his partner, Nicky Lang, entered. Nicky was a little younger than him and a lot better looking. Or so he felt. She possessed the slight features and straight dark hair of her Chinese mother combined with the cool rationality of her German father. She was breathing heavily as if she had just jogged up all six flights of steps. Probably had, Sterling thought. Nicky wasn’t the kind of woman that liked to back down from a challenge. Even something as simple as a set of stairs. She was, he thought, a little more idealistic than him, but a lot more practical. Sterling reasoned that her years working as an attending physician at a psychiatric hospital had probably toughened her up to the point that nothing could shock her. What he still didn’t know was why she had thrown it all away to work with him.