The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (9 page)

Amy thought maybe she was right, and he’d steered her
thinking in that direction when he said the young man weighed two hundred
pounds. Amy gave her a squeeze.

“There’s a simple answer. Don’t drink, only in moderation,
and especially not hard liquor,” Amy said, offering belated advice.

The boys returned.

“Put the blindfold on, Lou,” said Johno, “you’ll love this.”
His cheeks puffed out and he covered his mouth with his hand as if stifling a
laugh. Johno helped her to put on the blindfold, then dropped the cushion from
his chair on the pebbles. “Kneel down.”

Johno guided her to kneel. Oliver stepped forward. Ted
positioned himself behind Louise.

“What do I do?” Louise asked. There was nervousness in her
voice.

“Just a moment,” Oliver said, and knelt before her, holding
his hairy forearms together and facing Louise.

“Just lean forward and kiss the blarney stone,” said Johno.

Amy didn’t get it. Louise reached forward in blind faith,
kissing the area between his arms.

Oliver rolled out of the way to reveal Johno doing a moony
as Ted whipped off her blindfold.

“Oh no, that’s gross. How humiliating. Have I just kissed
your butt cheeks?”

Louise scrambled to her feet, crying. The boys rolled about,
belly laughing. Amy and Tanya rushed over to console Louise.

Amy heard Ted’s voice. “Damn, Johno, she fell for that, it’s
a good thing you weren’t pulling up your zipper. Did you see the look on her
face?”

They rolled about on the pebbles, laughing louder, and
holding their stomachs.

“That’s disgusting,” said Amy, and turned to Louise. “Don’t
worry, you only kissed his arms.”

Louise brushed Amy and Tanya to one side, then marched in
the direction of the tents. Johno stood and hobbled after her, when his pants
dropped to his ankles and he fell.

“Wait for me, it was only a joke,” he said, kicking off his
sneakers, then his pants, leaving them behind and hobbling after her.

Amy strutted over to Ted. “That was a crap thing to do to my
friend,” Amy said. “You can sleep in your pickup. Gyp ’ll keep me company
tonight.”

Tanya grabbed Oliver’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Come on, that’s enough fun for one night. Bed, lover boy.”

They trundled away, leaning shoulder to shoulder on each
other to stay upright, the worse for the drinking.

“You don’t mean that?” Ted said. He took a slug of vodka
from the bottle, while swaying from side to side.

Amy could feel her cheeks flaming at the sight of Ted.

“Yes, I mean it. I may see the funny side tomorrow, but I’m
not for sharing my bed with a drunk. Douse the fire.”

Amy picked up the Tilley lamp, and strolled off, picking up
Johno’s pants and sneakers on the way to her tent. She placed the lamp on the
dry silt, unzipped her tent and ducked inside. Gyp followed, then she zipped up
the opening. Without undressing, she wiggled into her sleeping bag, and Gyp
snuggled beside her. With her last vision of Ted, her mind drifted to her dad.
She knew he was still drinking, even though the bottle of JD he’d hidden in the
filing cabinet that she’d marked remained untouched. He was lying to her to her
when he’d said he wasn’t drinking, she knew that. She knew the signs. Today was
a bad day for him to be alone, and she wished she had spent the evening with
him.

Amy heard a grumbling, as if in the distance and growing
louder. She opened her eyes. All around her stirred from hazy, to gray scale
focus. Gyp faced the illuminated side of the tent and growled. A shadow
appeared on the fabric. At first, the shadow appeared as a dog on all fours,
and then it stood as if a bear was rearing to its hind legs. Her throat croaked,
Gyp barked, clawing at the tent fabric. It was no bear; the legs, arms, and
body was too sinewy, human like, but with the head of a dog. Her throat cleared,
and she let out a piecing scream. Her sleeping bag acted like a strait jacket,
adding a sense of panic as she struggled out of it, then scrambled to the back
of the tent. The tent around her appeared shrunk, now acting as a closed
coffin. The zip opened and Oliver popped his head inside. Gyp pushed his way
through the opening.

“Why the screams?”

Amy explained as best she could in a faltering tone, tears
streaming down her cheeks. Oliver retracted his head, and she ducked through
the opening.

“I didn’t see or hear anything. Are you sure it wasn’t a
nightmare?” said Louise. “None of the others had seen anything either.”

Ted joined them. Amy narrowed her eyes.

“Where have you hidden the mask? It was you, wasn’t it,
weirdo?”

“Why blame me? What’s happened? I was in my SUV when I heard
a dog barking and a scream.”

Oliver explained to Ted, both casting doubtful looks in
Amy’s direction. Ted walked behind the Tilley lamp and knelt down. He hooked
his thumbs together and wiggled his fingers in front of the lamp. The shadow
cast by his hands, covered the entire side of Amy’s tent, and appeared like an
eagle in flight.

“It was probably a small raccoon and not some scary creature
that you think chased you in the woods this morning,” Ted said, and then
scoffed.

Amy could feel heat rising in her cheeks, when Louise
stepped into the circle.

“Where’s Johno? He went for a leak before all the fuss, and
I fell asleep again. Oh, God, no. He’s gone missing.”

FRANK
sat up in his pickup, and flicked the handle to
raise his seat from recline. He turned the ignition key to illuminate the dash.
The neon clock, hazy at first, displayed 5:30 a.m. as his vision focused.
Another fifteen minutes and it would be daybreak, and Jim would relieve him
from his watch. He opened the door, then climbed out onto the road in front of
the vets. He’d lost thirty minutes, but he thought it was well-earned,
considering he’d worked a double shift. Frank lazily raised his arms and
yawned, taking in a lungful of air. He expected nature’s finest to bring back
some alertness. Instead, he coughed and spluttered. The smell and taste of toxic
fumes hit his senses, carried by a slight northwesterly breeze. It was early
for someone to be incinerating oily rags, but it had that kind of smell.

With a cursory glance, everything looked normal at the vet’s
property. He turned to climb back into his vehicle for him to escape the smell.
An explosion battered his eardrums, and had him diving to the asphalt. Shards
of wooden roof tiles peppered him and his pickup. He scrambled to his feet and
dove in to his vehicle. Frank rolled over to see flames roar from the garage
roof section, together with a cloud of swirling black smoke blotting out the
stars. Firing up the engine, he located too low a gear, and his pickup
shuddered away from the property.

Coordination lost, he came to a halt, stuck in a ditch, with
the engine stalled. He clambered out of the driver’s seat, searching his
pockets for his cell phone. Finally, he located his phone in his shirt pocket,
and fumbled to locate his contact list. He scrolled down to Ed Grimes number
and pressed the call switch. Four times, it rang, each time picking up voicemail.
The fifth time, it rang, and Ed answered.

“Yes,” he said, in a tone that didn’t sound best pleased.

“We’ve had an explosion, and the vet’s property is on fire.
We need the crew out now.”

“Calm down, Frank. How bad is it?”

At the sound of breaking glass, and a whooshing sound, Frank
ducked and looked over at the property.

“Oh, it’s bad, and spreading.”

“Okay, no heroics, keep back, I’ll contact the crew and get
there ASAP.”

Frank didn’t need telling, he’d seen the weird ways of fires
spreading during wildfires. He knew first-hand how quickly fires could devour a
home from a single spark. All the same, his curiosity overcame his fear. He
walked in a semicircle to view the scene, albeit at a safe distance. The small
window to the garage was open, but he couldn’t be sure if it had blown out in
the explosion. Frank saw a trickle of flames running uphill to one side of the
property and toward Maria’s oil heating tank. Frank turned, then ran with all
the speed he could muster, diving behind a tree for cover. At the sound of an
almighty explosion, his surroundings temporarily turned to daylight. He heard
something thud into the tree trunk. What seemed like five minutes passed, when
he dared to peer around the tree trunk. A shard of metal pipe from the oil tank
had speared the trunk. Frank took off his hat, then wiped his arm across his
forehead, before returning his hat to his head.

His shoulders sagged, just as the roof of the property
collapsed with a loud crack, sending sparks billowing into the sky. Worse
still, the woods at the far side of where the oil tank had stood, the
undergrowth was ablaze.

The town’s antiquated fire engine came to a squealing halt.
The crew jumped out of the cab, and they did what they had trained for in their
spare time. Frank walked over to them to speak with Ed Grimes.

“We’re too late to save the property,” said Ed. “Best we
start on the woods.” He held up his hand. “Looks like a northwesterly. A slight
change in direction and it’ll whip through the undergrowth and burn the town to
the ground.”

Frank lived in the general direction of the breeze. His wife
Judy would be asleep. If they lost control of the fire in the woods, the sparks
could beat him driving over there if she didn’t answer the phone. He hurried
back to his vehicle, and locating a reverse crawl gear, he backed out of the
ditch. Parking in the direction to head home, he pressed the button to wind
down his window.

Frank heard a metallic clanking sound in the direction of
the fire engine. He could see one of the crew tapping the outlet valve with a
hammer. The crew already had the hose rolled out, but with two of them now
grasping the wheel, they couldn’t open the valve.

“Wind up the hose, and move the engine near to the woods, “Ed
ordered.

“What about the valve? It’s stuck.” One of the crew called
back.

“We’ll use a wrench to lever it and it’ll free it up. It’s
freshly packed with graphite seal to stop it leaking, that’s all.”

Frank watched them load up, then drive around the corner.
Practiced or not, he wasn’t about to trust part-time amateurs to put the fire
out in the undergrowth, even if it was in the early stages. This year’s drought
had left everything tinder dry. He selected the number of the Department for
Forestry and Fire Protection from his contacts and pressed call.

Frank explained the situation.

“Okay, leave it with us. We’ll get a ground crew out there
with an investigator and initiate an airdrop. We’ll call you on this number as
we approach so you can clear the area.”

Frank closed the call. Jim pulled up in his vehicle.

“What the hell’s happened,” Jim asked. “Brett’s going to be
none too pleased.”

“Tell me about it. He’s sure to fire me. I fell asleep. I
don’t have a clue what caused it, maybe faulty wiring? We’ll know more when the
forestry fire investigator arrives.”

Jim sucked air through the gap in his front teeth, and then
said, “Bit of a coincidence with forensics due later today. It could be that
someone didn’t want us to find evidence they’d been here. We could be looking
at arson.”

“Oh, God, I need to let Brett know. By the look of it,
there’s going to be nothing for them to investigate. He’ll need to let
forensics know.”

They walked around the back of the property on the opposite
side of the road for them to keep out of the radiating heat.

“Listen, he’ll be asleep now,” said Jim. “Wait for the
investigator to arrive from the forestry fire department. He might find some
reason for the fire other than arson. No need for Brett to know you were
asleep. It’s not as if you could cover all four sides of the property. I’ll
phone him later. You need to get to Amy’s camp, remember?”

Frank looked across at the remains of the property, still
alight. Burning wood had landed on the sheet of UVPC, melting the sheeting that
covered the bloody tracks.

Franks cell phone rang and he answered.

“ETA, fifteen minutes for the airdrop. Clear the area.”

“Okay,” said Frank, “consider it done.”

Frank called Ed on his cell.

“You need to get out of there now. The wildfire department’s
sending an airdrop.”

“Who called them? Oh, never mind. Okay, we’ll pull out, now.”

Frank and Jim opened a gate in the hedgerow, and set off
walking up the slope of the field. Daylight had broken when they heard the
drone of the aircraft and they both dropped to a crouch.

Frank considered the events that had played out over the
last eighteen hours. Frank wondered if his change of career at his age for a
regular wage and a shiny badge was worth losing the freedom of working as a
tourist guide. Worse, some of the townsfolk that he considered friends now
shunned him. A drink in Ed’s bar was no longer a pleasure, with some of his
drinking buddies shuffling away from him to carry on their banter in hushed
tones.

Frank looked upward. The aircraft swooped low, dropping its
payload of fire retardant and water over the woods. An orange cloud descended
from the aircraft’s tank and landed with a thud, followed by a hissing and
steam rising. The scene triggered a flashback to the final throws of the
Vietnam War back in seventy four, with C123s spraying Agent Orange over the
canopy of the jungle. They were supposed to have stopped using it then, but he
knew different. He was young then, twenty years old, invincible. It would take
thirty-eight years for the arthritis now tugging at his neck, and the pains
stabbing in his ankles to tell him otherwise.

Three helicopters followed, their Bambi buckets strung below
on cables. One at a time, they dropped their load. The last one hit what was
left of the surgery, washing away debris, and the UVPC to one side, with the
force of the payload hitting its target. Frank buried his head in his hands.
All that was left of the surgery had collapsed into the cellar, with a mixture
of steam and smoke rising from the blackened charred wood. He knew for certain
that that was the last of any clues washed away.

Something bugged Frank. It was hot and dry and not because
of the fire. No one used their heating this time of year. He realized that the
pipe stuck in the tree trunk was part of the outlet pipe to the oil tank. A
vision flashed through his mind. He recalled that the handle for the valve attached
to the oil tank pipe. It was in the open position.