Chapter 2 #2
“Grab a drink and come join us when you’re ready,” Mark yelled toward the back hallway, where Brent guessed Donny had gone.
Minutes later, a lanky young man with floppy dark hair emerged, all human with sharp features like his malamute/husky side, with mismatched blue and gold eyes.
He got a soda and took the chair closest to where Demon lay.
“What did you make of the service?” Father Leo looked to Brent and Travis in particular.
“Short and to the point,” Brent replied. “Works for me. I’m not much for ceremony.”
“Beats the heck out of a full funeral mass,” Travis answered laconically.
Father Leo laughed. “It might be heresy, but I fully agree.”
“Did those folks have particular ties to Al, or just the community showing up for one of their own?” Brent hadn’t noted any striking resemblances to Al’s photo, but he knew that in small towns, family links were common and convoluted.
“Bob, the guy who talked to you, was a cousin, if I remember right,” Father Leo said. “Fred and Jimmy, two of the other older men, often hunted with Al. I think they blame themselves for not being with him when the rougarou got him, but that’s how it goes.”
“Either Janie or Andi might be a distant relative, but I’m not sure,” Mark said. “They’re damn fine hunters. Al always stood up for them if anyone got snarky, either about women hunting or them being a couple. Like I said, he was a good guy.”
“Is the rougarou still out there?” Travis asked.
Brent understood the concern. Like lions or other normal predators, a carnivore that attacked a human lost its right to protection and was likely to kill again.
“No. The night we found Al, Bob called for a dragnet. We all went out moving in a grid. Got the son of a bitch. Nasty piece of work,” Mark replied, and Brent thought he saw a flicker of grief in his eyes from his own loss to a similar monster.
“Good,” Travis said quietly. Most of the time, hunters worked alone or with a partner, reserving such large, coordinated team efforts for particularly dangerous targets.
Brent sat back on the couch and sipped his cola. “If Al got killed by a rougarou, what makes you think someone is targeting the hunters? It’s too bad he died, but it sounds like a normal hunt gone wrong. What’s different?”
“We haven’t had a rougarou in these parts for more than a decade,” Mark said. “So where did one suddenly come from?”
Travis leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You think someone is herding or transporting monsters to up the stakes?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re being loaded into trailers and hauled here. But with the right magic, it seems to me they could be drawn to an area. Nudged, lured, whatever you want to call it.”
Brent frowned, thinking. “Seems like a lot of work. Why? What’s the goal?”
“It’s not just here.”
They all turned to look at Father Leo. “Our folks don’t usually go as far north as Erie or too deep into the center of the state, but I’m hearing that they’ve had a spate of particularly vicious monsters and hunter deaths, too. Pretty much our corner of northwestern PA, down as far as your area.”
Travis shifted in his seat, and Brent could guess his friend’s thoughts. That’s a pretty close overlap with the local chapter of Sinistram.
“Got any suspects?” Brent asked. “Pissed off a necromancer or a big coven? Riled up an ancient dark witch?”
“Not to our knowledge,” Father Leo replied.
“And that kind of retribution would likely be more personal, maybe take out a particular hunter or team. This…it’s too targeted and frequent to be coincidence, but there’s a short list of who benefits from not having hunters do their job, and I can’t make the pieces fit. ”
“We just faced off with CHARON, so I don’t think it’s them. They think they’re better than regular hunters, but they aren’t usually on the monster’s side,” Brent mused.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but the people and places aren’t usually on Sinistram’s radar,” Travis said. “They usually only concern themselves with situations they consider to be important—according to their criteria. Everything else is beneath them.”
“If they set that aside for…reasons. Could they do it?” Father Leo asked.
Travis’s gaze darted around the room, and Brent knew it was a sure sign he was searching his memories.
“Maybe. I guess so. Magically? I’m not sure what it would take to lure monsters from their regular territories over a distance.
Too much sustained effort for one person, I’d think.
And why would it matter if the hunters were killed in this area instead of back where the creatures were from originally? Dead is dead,” Travis replied.
“How about a stealth third party?” Brent tossed out. “A wild card. Are there other people or groups who might have juiced up enough to do it? Secret supernatural groups seem to be a dime a dozen.”
Mark sniffed. “You mean guys who are more hunter cosplay than the real thing? They watch some TV, cause problems at cemeteries, banish a couple of ghosts, and retreat to their clubhouse to drink and play poker. We’ve run into a few of them, but they’re more likely to be the next casualties than the masterminds. ”
“Same with the witches,” Father Leo said. “We have a few with real power, who, fortunately for us, are on our side. They do a very serious job of policing their own. If a dark practitioner tried to move into their territory, I suspect they’d deal with it and bury the body. One and done.”
“Got any goth teenagers gone wrong? Folks who’ve seen too many movies and downloaded a grimoire from the Dark Web to summon Aleister Crowley and got Cthulhu instead?” Travis mused.
The Dark Web used ensorcelled encryption to safeguard its secrets and catered to those who worked with the supernatural and occult.
What was accessible on the regular internet could be troublesome enough, but if someone had gotten past the protections, information on the Dark Web was far more dangerous.
“Not that we’ve heard, but anything’s possible, I guess,” Father Leo said. “We can check with our witchy friends. Janie and Andi are also pretty connected with the local covens. It won’t hurt to ask.”
“Whatever the reason, folks are nervous,” Mark said.
“Hunters are a superstitious bunch to start with, and a run of bad luck has them looking for omens in their tea leaves. If the fish aren’t biting or there are more storms than usual or there’s a weird moon like a little while ago, people whisper about ‘connections.’ I’ll be glad when things settle down. ”
After that, the conversation shifted to football and the weather as they finished off the last of their drinks and the day caught up with them.
“I’m going to head out.” Father Leo put his empty soda bottle in the recycling bin. “Good to see you again, Travis and Brent. Call anytime if I can help.”
They said goodnight, and Mark went to a hallway closet, returning with an armful of sheets, blankets, and pillows.
“Someone gets the couch, and someone else gets the guest room. You can flip for it,” Mark told them.
“I get up pretty early to take Demon out, and then I get the coffee going. I have cereal, toast, and peanut butter. Not fancy, but it’s free.
Help yourselves. Don’t leave without saying goodbye.
I have a couple of ideas I need to sleep on.
Don’t worry about Donny. If he stays over, he stays in his wolf and sleeps with Demon.
If you hear snoring, it’s them, not me. Sleep tight. ”
With that, Mark headed down the hall and into his room. Brent looked at Travis. “Got a preference?”
“Go ahead and take the guest room. I’ll take the couch,” Travis volunteered. Brent suspected his friend offered because Brent’s back was still sore after the cement factory fight.
“Thanks. You can get first dibs on the bathroom,” Brent offered. He had packed a few essentials in his backpack, so it didn’t take long for him to change into sleep pants and a T-shirt.
Snoring rumbled from the other room.
“Need earplugs?” Travis offered. “I always keep a few pairs handy.”
Brent shook his head. “I’ll be okay. Once you learn to sleep through a war zone, not much else bothers you.” He dropped his voice. “The secret is to be so damn exhausted you can’t stay awake even if they put the air raid siren next to your ear.”
“I’ll take your word on that,” Travis replied. “Monasteries cornered the market on silence.”
True to his word, Brent fell asleep quickly.
When he woke the next morning, he heard Travis and Donny talking quietly in the kitchen.
Demon had come out to wake him, plunking his huge head beside Brent’s face and staring him into awareness with his warm brown eyes.
The muffled sound of a shower told Brent where Mark had gone.
“Coffee’s ready,” Donny called. “There’s a second bathroom at the end of the hall if you’re desperate. Make yourself at home.”
Brent ruffled Demon’s ears and got a toothy grin in response, then he got up, rummaged in his backpack for fresh clothes, and went to change. When he walked into the kitchen, Travis shoved a cup of black coffee into his hands.
“Here. Caffeinate. You’ll be less grumpy.”
“Guilty as charged.” He took the coffee, grabbed a toaster pastry, and ate it cold, eager to have the caffeine and sugar hit his system. After a second cup, he tuned into the conversation.
“I don’t hear the insider gossip with the pack,” Donny was saying.
“Mark says I’m too wolfy for a lot of people and too people-y for a lot of wolves, and he’s not wrong.
I have my friends. Our pack is small and we don’t cause trouble.
We’ve had an understanding with the hunters around here for a long time.
There’s a lot to lose if someone breaks the truce and makes it look like our fault. ”
“Has that happened?” Travis gulped down his java and turned to get a refill.