Symphony of Blood, A Hank Mondale Supernatural Case (23 page)

“Jesus Christ, Blake,” the cornered man yelled. “What were you expecting to happen?”

“Just shut up!” the confident man snapped. “Everyone shut up.”

In a calm, low voice, the brown-skinned man said, “Maybe Mackenzie made that shit up about Mario.”

“Yeah,” the pale man said in agreement. “Maybe Mario did just run off on his wife or some shit.”

“Blake for Christ’s sake, let me out!”

“Shut up! All of you!”

Finally, everyone listened. The confident man took a few steps down the path away from them all, and pulled out his speaking disk. He pressed a few buttons and began talking almost immediately.

“We are with your pet. Get down here. Now!” He bit his lip, then muttered to himself. The men looked at him, both as if about to speak, but neither did.

The cornered man made scared-noises, but didn’t say anything clearly.

It stayed still, quiet and content in its corner behind the tree stump.

A few minutes passed before the familiar mixture of hair paint, fake sweet scent and feminine sweat hit its nose. Soon after, she appeared on the stone path.

The confident man walked towards her as she walked towards them.

“Mackenzie, you had better start explaining yourself.”

“Mackenzie!” The cornered man yelled. “Help me!”

“Holy shit, Daddy! Is that…”

“Yes, it’s Bill fucking Palmer. You know who it is.”

“Mackenzie! Please, talk some sense into your father. Tell him to let me go.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bill” the confident man yelled, “or so help me God, I am going to hurt you so bad!”

The cornered man stopped talking.

“Daddy, what is going on?”

“I brought your pet some food.”

Joy-noises poured out of her insides and she looked at each of the men while shaking her head and licking her lips.

“I see.”

“You were telling me the truth about Mario. Weren’t you?”

“Of course, Daddy.” Her eyes were opened, very wide.

“He ate everything. Left no traces.”

“Yes, Daddy. Everything. You saw for yourself.”

“Well, why isn’t he eating Bill Palmer,
goddamnit
!”

“Symphony’s probably scared. He’s not a man-eating monster, Daddy. He’s very cautious. Look at him.” They all turned and looked. “He’s cowering in the corner. Reluctant to even poke his head out from behind his favorite tree trunk. He’s as scared of Bill Palmer as Bill Palmer is of him.”

 “I highly doubt that,” the pale man said, his face turned upwards.

“Would you shut up, Marty!” The confident man yelled. Then to Mackenzie, he said, “So what are you saying? He won’t eat.”

“He wouldn’t attack Mario. I think his nature is to attack the weak.”

The confident man nodded. “Attack the weak.”

“If you weaken him, then Symphony will sense it, and attack.”

“Oh, Jesus, Tom.” The cornered man’s scared-noises started again. “What are you doing?”

“Wes,” the confident man said and waved him over.

The two of them walked around to the back of the cage.

“Please, Tom. Please just stop this. This has gone far enough. You want me to sign off on the deal, I’ll sign off on the deal. It doesn’t matter. Whatever you want, Tom.”

The keys jingled and the door flung open. The brown-skinned man walked in purposefully carrying a shiny rod.

“Please, no!” The cornered man said as he held his hands up defensively and backed away.

The brown-skinned man advanced and quickly was on the cornered man. He held the shiny rod at belt-level and thrust upwards, into the man’s middle.

The cornered man sucked air. His tongue flew out, strands of bloody drool falling quickly to the ground.

“Yes!” Mackenzie said, her joy-noises louder than ever. She too now heard the symphony of blood as it performed another brilliant tune.

The brown-skinned man pulled the rod out of the cornered man. It was no longer shiny but now darkened and dripping. He stuck it in again.

The cornered man dropped.

“Oh, Daddy. Thank you. Symphony will eat well tonight.”

The brown-skinned man wiped the rod on the cornered man’s pant-leg and it shined once again. He quickly walked out of the cage. The door spoke loudly.

The horns blew boldly and in unison. The woodwinds and strings complemented them perfectly. The percussion played a marching beat.

Soon It would feed while the orchestra proudly played on.

* *

Joy. The humans called it joy. When their lips turned upwards and they exposed their teeth. When they made the joy-noises—the real ones, the ones that came from deep down in their insides and not forced out by their minds. They called it joy.

It had never known joy. Not the kind that came from inside. It only knew contentment. Hunger, or contentment. Fear or contentment. Never joy.

Until now.

The simplicity that once ruled its life was gone. Waking up, feeding, staying hidden, staying strong. These actions had consumed its existence. But in the cage, with its needs tended to by the girl, perspective changed.

She came daily, changing the music each time. Spending time, sometimes hours on end with It. Making childlike faces. It ignored her for the most part. But some days, she’d take out the chameleon and hand it through the rails. Then It couldn’t help but be grateful to the girl. It would stroke the lizard gently under the neck. The lizard’s unmasked joy was apparent—neck tilted back, tongue waggling slightly in and out. It had the chameleon, and the chameleon had It. Two lone souls now together, no longer alone.

Joy. It was real. Every bit as real as hunger or fear.

The red, hot ball in the sky had come and gone at least seven times since It had finished the remains of the cornered man, but It wasn’t hungry. Its ability to keep energy reserved was especially strong in the cage; It hardly moved and didn’t need the camouflage.

“How’s my sweet Symphony today?” She asked. “Are you hungry?”

It didn’t waste any energy responding.

“Symphony, talk to mommy. You must be hungry.”

It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t scared. It wasn’t even content. Now that she was here, It was joyful. Not to see her, but because she’d bring the music box back to life. And better still, she’d bring it…

“Chameleon.” It asked, with submission so she’d surely cooperate.

“You want to play with the chameleon?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mackenzie.”

“Okay, sweetie.”

She took the lizard out of the tank and handed it through the rails. It took the lizard, ever so gently, and stroked it.

It made joy-noises, not quite like the humans made, but genuine joy-noises all the same.

“You love that silly little lizard, don’t you?”

It stared at the lizard, sticking out its tongue and moving its tail slightly.

“Mommy has a special surprise for you, Symphony. Hopefully, it will come tomorrow. I am bringing you a treat. Someone who I want you to meet.”

It heard her, but wasn’t really paying attention.

“I have to go. Give me back the chameleon.”

It took a step back, moving away from her.

“I have to go, Symphony. I can’t leave him in there with you. He might run through the bars and get away.”

“Keep chameleon.”

She shook her head and with a fake joy-noise said, “Okay. But don’t get mad at me if he gets away.”

She left, but the chameleon stayed. It carried the lizard to its favorite corner, and they huddled together, behind its favorite tree stump.

It felt joy.

* *

The chameleon seemed content, huddled with It in its corner. Sometimes, the lizard would venture out a few steps, but Its odor seemed to attract flying creatures, which the chameleon readily slurped up. The lizard, clearly a quick learner, stayed close by. The chameleon soon found a perfect spot, perched up at the highest point of the tree stump. From there it had a steady supply of passing flies. The lizard ate heartily for the next few days, while It stayed still, conserving energy and happily basking in the company of its friend.

The aroma of hair paint and feminine sweat was soon followed by the sounds of two girls making the quick, fake joy-noises. She was coming, and with her was another female.

The girls walked arm in arm, bouncing down the stone path acting very silly. They took turns putting a bottle in their mouths and passing it back and forth. It looked them over as they approached. They looked like twins. Each small and skinny. Each girl wearing low-cut shorts that when they turned around had some writing across the ass. Each girl wore pink tops that didn’t cover the belly or the shoulders. They each had painted yellow hair, a bright platinum shade that didn’t grow naturally on the human female head. Even the bags with straps that they carried were the same style, although Mackenzie’s was pink and her companion’s white.

It recognized the other girl, as it always did once It had smelled a human. Their scents were so distinct, more so than any other animal It had encountered.

“I’m so glad we’re friends again, Mackenzie.”

“I missed you
sooooo
much.”

“Let’s never let anything come between us again. Especially not a boy.”

“You bet.”

They walked towards the cage. Mackenzie handed the bottle to the girl and said, “Polish it off, Nicki.”

“Sure.” The girl tilted her head back, guzzled down what was left in the bottle, then shook her head back and forth wildly. “Yeah! That’s good.”

“You
wanna
smoke?”

“Sure. You have any coke?”

“Of course, honey.”

Mackenzie sat down on a short brick wall that sat between the path and the clearing in front of the cage. The other girl sat next to her. Mackenzie opened up the large pink bag. She took out a small dark-colored thing, took off the top and poured some powder onto the topside of her hand, between the thumb and finger. Her nose grabbed the powder then she handed the dark-colored thing to her friend.

“Have as much as you want, honey.” Mackenzie picked at the flaps of her nose and licked her teeth.

“Nice.” The girl did the same.

The two sat on the wall sticking little burning torches in their mouths, swallowing two torches each, then Mackenzie said, “You want to see something really cool?”

“Okay. Do you have any water?” The girl started to lick her lips and push her teeth together.

Mackenzie laughed. “Are you
buggin
’ out from the coke?”

“No!” she said as she made awkward joy-noises and wrapped her arm around Mackenzie’s back.

“I think you are,” Mackenzie replied in a voice that was more singing than talking.

“I am not. I just need a drink. ‘
kay
!”

“Okay, okay. Let me just show you this first. Then I’ll get you some water.”

“Fine!”

They walked towards It, then around the circular path that ran along the other side of the cage. It heard the familiar jingle-jangle of keys. Then the door came open.

It stayed put, crouched down in the far corner of the cage. The lizard stayed put as well, perched up on the tree stump, taking the temperature of the air with its tongue.

“What is it, Mackenzie?”

“I’ll show you, silly.” She pushed the girl from behind and they both stumbled and made more joy-noises. “It’s over
there
!”

“Okay. Okay. I’m going. But what is it? All I see is a stupid old tree stump.”

“Keep looking.”

The girl looked back at Mackenzie with a fake smile. Then she shrugged and said, “What?”

“Keep looking.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“You’re not looking. Walk over there.” She playfully pushed her from behind again.

The girl walked closer, and then said, “
Ew
. What is that?”

Mackenzie pulled something out of her strap bag, then slammed it over the girl’s head; it looked like something humans used for exercise but It wasn’t exactly sure. The girl’s head and neck shook and she stumbled. The girls were evenly matched, yet the use of a weapon made the fight one-sided; It had never thought to use a weapon while hunting. Mackenzie clubbed her again and she fell backwards, just barely managing to get her arms and elbows in the way to break her fall.

She screamed from pain, and partially sat up. Mackenzie brought the club down again on the top of her head. She fell back halfway, her body dancing, then wobbled, then fell. Mackenzie brought the club down one more time, smacking her in the face. The girl grunted, then shut her eyes. Her head fell to the side and her mouth opened, her tongue flapped like a puppy, then lay still, like the rest of her.