unlike anything I had seen before. The flesh had been torn, ripped asunder by what looked like tiny, sharp teeth. Like piranha. The edges were ragged like a hole in an old pair of denim jeans. Strings of flesh flapped over the gaps, tangling and touching.
The strangest thing of all was that there was no evidence it had been killed there. Yes, I was looking at a dead lion. Yes, some would say that was evidence. But there was no other sign of how it was killed or how it got there. If the murder had happened where the body was, then the ground should have been torn up. Signs should have been left. Blood should have been everywhere. Weird. No blood, no skin, quarter-ton carcass deposited high in a tree, with no sign of how, and chunks removed by tiny, murderous mouthfuls. Wiping my knife off on the grass I put it away and stood up.
Longyard looked at me. “You have a better guess than an extinct winged dinosaur?”
“Not yet. I am going to need to poke around and see what’s what.”
“You gonna hunt it down?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Need my help?”
I looked at him. I knew he was handy with his gun, but I kept Longyard and his fellow police officers away from all of this as much as possible. One of the things that keep the majority of humans safe is that the monsters know, no matter how strong they are, that they are outnumbered. That’s why they stick to the shadows and the edges of the night. None of them want the full attention of the human race turned on them. Humans can use silver. Humans can walk in daylight. Humans can touch iron. Whatever weakness a monster has, humans do not. The other side of that coin is if they ever thought they were about to be outed, they would strike first. Blood would be shed, people would die.
A lot of people.
So I work the edges too. Hunting monsters, killing the ones who are dangerous to humans. Being a monster to the monsters, but always trying to keep it from public knowledge. Longyard helps me with that when what I do gets too bloody and too big. He provides cover stories and helps keep his fellow officers out of my way.
My hand fell on his shoulder. “I won’t know until I figure out what this is. If so, I’ll call you. Until then I have Jimmy the zookeeper. We’ll handle this.”
The detective pulled a long drag off his cigarette, held it, and blew the smoke out in twin streams from his nostrils. “You’re in good hands, Jimmy, so I will leave you boys to it.”
Jimmy the zookeeper looked shocked. “You’re leaving?”
“Yep. You two figure this out and give me a call. I am going back to some air-conditioning.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette away.
Jimmy the zookeeper piped up. “Hey! The animals live here. You can’t trash up their habitat.”
Longyard didn’t look back as he walked away, voice carrying over his shoulder. “Call a cop.”
2
Dr. Critter was the program director at the zoo as well as a certified zoologist specializing in exotic animals. He was also a local sensation on the children’s educational television circuit. Standing in his office I could tell why. He was almost as tall as I am, topping around six foot two inches and had a head of golden hair to match his golden tan. Pale sea-green eyes moved as quick as his camera-worthy grin. He was the original Smilin’ Jack and all around good-time guy. Children across the country looked up to him like he could wrestle alligators and tame lions.
Which he could, and had, on their TVs every morning.
My son used to watch him on public broadcast TV. We would sit side-by-side in the mornings eating breakfast and watching Critter’s Corner on public broadcast TV. My wife and daughter would join us sometimes, but usually it was just him and me.
That was before.
Before he was taken.
Before he was killed senselessly …
STOP !
I clenched my hand to stop it from trembling, breath rushing in and out, heart pounding. I derailed that memory before it got ugly. Before it took over.
The strangest thing of all was that there was no evidence it had been killed there. Yes, I was looking at a dead lion. Yes, some would say that was evidence. But there was no other sign of how it was killed or how it got there. If the murder had happened where the body was, then the ground should have been torn up. Signs should have been left. Blood should have been everywhere. Weird. No blood, no skin, quarter-ton carcass deposited high in a tree, with no sign of how, and chunks removed by tiny, murderous mouthfuls. Wiping my knife off on the grass I put it away and stood up.
Longyard looked at me. “You have a better guess than an extinct winged dinosaur?”
“Not yet. I am going to need to poke around and see what’s what.”
“You gonna hunt it down?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Need my help?”
I looked at him. I knew he was handy with his gun, but I kept Longyard and his fellow police officers away from all of this as much as possible. One of the things that keep the majority of humans safe is that the monsters know, no matter how strong they are, that they are outnumbered. That’s why they stick to the shadows and the edges of the night. None of them want the full attention of the human race turned on them. Humans can use silver. Humans can walk in daylight. Humans can touch iron. Whatever weakness a monster has, humans do not. The other side of that coin is if they ever thought they were about to be outed, they would strike first. Blood would be shed, people would die.
A lot of people.
So I work the edges too. Hunting monsters, killing the ones who are dangerous to humans. Being a monster to the monsters, but always trying to keep it from public knowledge. Longyard helps me with that when what I do gets too bloody and too big. He provides cover stories and helps keep his fellow officers out of my way.
My hand fell on his shoulder. “I won’t know until I figure out what this is. If so, I’ll call you. Until then I have Jimmy the zookeeper. We’ll handle this.”
The detective pulled a long drag off his cigarette, held it, and blew the smoke out in twin streams from his nostrils. “You’re in good hands, Jimmy, so I will leave you boys to it.”
Jimmy the zookeeper looked shocked. “You’re leaving?”
“Yep. You two figure this out and give me a call. I am going back to some air-conditioning.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette away.
Jimmy the zookeeper piped up. “Hey! The animals live here. You can’t trash up their habitat.”
Longyard didn’t look back as he walked away, voice carrying over his shoulder. “Call a cop.”
2
Dr. Critter was the program director at the zoo as well as a certified zoologist specializing in exotic animals. He was also a local sensation on the children’s educational television circuit. Standing in his office I could tell why. He was almost as tall as I am, topping around six foot two inches and had a head of golden hair to match his golden tan. Pale sea-green eyes moved as quick as his camera-worthy grin. He was the original Smilin’ Jack and all around good-time guy. Children across the country looked up to him like he could wrestle alligators and tame lions.
Which he could, and had, on their TVs every morning.
My son used to watch him on public broadcast TV. We would sit side-by-side in the mornings eating breakfast and watching Critter’s Corner on public broadcast TV. My wife and daughter would join us sometimes, but usually it was just him and me.
That was before.
Before he was taken.
Before he was killed senselessly …
STOP !
I clenched my hand to stop it from trembling, breath rushing in and out, heart pounding. I derailed that memory before it got ugly. Before it took over.
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