Syphon: Guardians of the Fractured Realms (7 page)

Nodding his gratitude, Samuel stood up while grabbing his tray. Motioning for Carl, he replied with a grin.

“Lead the way, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Samuel felt significantly better after getting cleaned up and putting on clean clothes that fit better. Doubling up on the socks let the boots fit better as well. Thankfully, nobody had asked him about the strange jewelry he had on his left arm. Trying to explain why he had it while being homeless would have lead to his amnesia problem, a problem that might expose his desire to hide from the police while he tried figuring out what what going on and who he was.

Up ahead, he could make out the sentinel statues Carl had told him to look for at the top step of the library. He stomach was still feeling distended from breakfast, yet he was still hungry. He couldn’t figure out what his body was craving even after the huge amount of food he’d eaten earlier.

As he approached the steps, a weird feeling, almost like ants crawling across his skin, played across the back of his neck. After a few seconds, the sensation went away, but not before he realized it had slowly shifted, like it was coming from a specific direction or object that was moving. It had only lasted a few seconds, only long enough to determined the general direction the sensation had come from. He leaned against the side of the steps for a few minutes to see if the feeling came back, but after a few minutes, he shrugged his shoulders and went inside.

As he stepped inside, he got déjà vu, along with another weird tingling feeling as he crossed the threshold. Looking around, he tried to figure out what had triggered the feeling again. Had he been here before? Or was it just a general impression from going into a library in general? Either way, he had a reason for being here. Hopefully, it might jog his memory, assuming he’d been here in the past. Heading toward the front counter, he noticed the librarian had her back to him. From the look of it, she was in the process of sorting the returned books on a cart. Samuel cleared his throat.

“Excuse me… miss?”

The woman held up her hand, signaling him to wait a moment as she finished shuffling some books before she turned around. For a split-second, her eyes widened. Samuel thought it looked like she recognized him, but she adjusted her glasses before smiling.

“Yes? How may I assist you today?”

“Uh, yes. I was hoping you’d be able to point me to where you keep recent copies of the local newspaper?”

Adjusting her glasses again, she gestured off to a corner of the library.

“The periodicals section is over in that direction. You’ll find that we have the previous week’s copies of several local periodicals there, along with other regional and national papers as well. If you need something further back, we also keep the past five years worth on computer. If you need any assistance, don’t be afraid to ask myself or one of the other librarians here. Is there anything further I can assist you with at this moment?”

“No thank you. I, uh, think that will be good for now.”

Samuel started to walk toward the periodical section, but decided to ask her if she knew him. As he turned back, he noticed she was staring at him but quickly looked back down at the cart of books, accidentally knocking several books off. He quickly turned and strode away.

Smooth… real smooth, now she’s probably embarrassed. Maybe she thought I was cute or something. Now it’ll probably be awkward to talk to her. It probably wasn’t a look of recognition anyway. Maybe once I figure out who I am and what’s going on, I’ll come back and ask her out on a date. Kinda hard to do that right now, being homeless and all.

Samuel took a couple steps before another thought occurred to him.

Wait a sec, do I already have a girlfriend? Or what if I’m married? I suppose either’s a possibility at this point. Just gotta keep my mind on the task at hand.

Shaking his head, he made his way over to the periodicals section, looking for the local papers from the past several days. After a few minutes of searching, he found what he was looking for. Grabbing the stack, he wandered over to a table and sat down. He spent the next half hour pouring over the previous week, trying to find any mention of the incident he was supposedly a part of. A couple days back, he noticed a small blurb about a disturbance in a warehouse that police were called to, but not much else. Yesterday had a small article about a murdered police officer at the local hospital, along with a mention that one of the patients was missing and wanted for questioning.

That’s probably me. If they find me, I’ll probably wind up in a dank cell for the next twenty years.

Samuel glanced around and found a small stack of notebooks laying out along with several pens. Grabbing a notebook and pen, he sat back down. He copied down the sparse info the paper gave about the warehouse, intending to check it out later when it got dark. Hopefully he could find the address by then. As he put the stack of papers back, he noticed the head of the dragon poking out of his sleeve. Pulling the sleeve back down, it got him to thinking. It had to have come from somewhere. Maybe one of the local jewelry stores could take a look at it and possibly give him an idea of where it came from or who might have made it. After all, it was just his imagination that it had come to life last night. Being thrown out a window and surviving must have played tricks on his mind. So that meant someone had to have made it. With so little else to go on, it was worth a shot. Maybe a local jeweler might just be able to point him in the right direction.

After putting the newspapers back, he wandered around the library for a few minutes until he found the reference section, hoping to find a phone book there. He didn’t want to embarrass the librarian again when he was perfectly capable of finding information on his own, especially since he had noticed out the corner of his eye that she kept staring at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Finding a phone book, he flipped through the yellow pages until he found a list of jewelry stores. Scanning down the page, he found a space ad for a store that specialized in gothic and cosplay jewelry.

That sounds promising.

Jotting down the address, along with several other stores in the area, he set the phone book back down on a nearby table. Glancing back up, he noticed the librarian looking at him again. When she noticed him looking again, she spun around and headed over toward a door that he hadn’t noticed before. As she went in, he had the strange feeling that the door was important, but he couldn’t figure out why. As he stared at it, he suddenly got the impression that the air around the door was shimmering, like heat coming off a hot surface. As he continued to stare, he started to notice what appeared to be a slight blue glow coming out around the door frame. Before he could study it further, he heard a voice off to the side.

“Excuse me… Are you finished with this?”

Turning to look at the speaker, he stumbled back a few steps. Standing before him was what appeared to be a tall, gaunt looking man with pointed teeth, solid white eyes, and long, pointed ears. Blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes, Samuel continued to back up.

“I say, are you all right sir?”

Samuel looked back at the man again. Standing before him now was a relatively tall gentleman dressed in a suit. He still appeared to be gaunt, but not overtly so. He still felt a slight sense of menace from him, but wasn’t sure why.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ve just had a long morning is all.”

“Quite all right.”

Samuel noticed him gesture with his head toward the phone book.

“Oh, yeah. I’m done with that. Be my guest.”

“Thank you kindly.”

As the gentleman reached for the phone book, Samuel got a bizarre double image of the guy standing before him. One was of the thing he’d first seen and another, almost transparent image of the guy he had just been talking to. Shaking his head, he glanced back at the door, but it just looked like a normal door again. Tucking the notebook and pen in his pocket, he headed for the front door. Maybe some fresh air would help with the hallucinations he was having. It would also explain why he thought the dragon was alive. After all, the doctor had implied he might have a brain injury.

“Cheerio!”

He glanced back at the man/thing waving to him. He waved back and headed toward the exit. He started wondering if he should turn himself back into the hospital so they could check to make sure he wasn’t suffering brain damage, either from the fight last night or possibly what caused him to end up in the hospital with amnesia in the first place. After all, he had coughed up a bullet. The only reason he decided against it was, other than the strange visions and odd sensations, he felt fine.

If they get worse, I’ll have to turn myself in. There’s no sense of me dying to find out who I am. They’ll be able to figure out who I am eventually. But I’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. Until then, I need to figure this out on my own.

Trying to cross the threshold again, he felt the odd tingling sensation, along with a slight physical resistance. It wasn’t enough to stop him, but it was enough to be noticeable. Feeling an urge to look behind him, he noticed the door the librarian had disappeared through opening again. The librarian stepped out, followed by a couple of strange guys dressed all in black with black trench coats. Feeling exposed, he dodged to the side of the door before glancing back in. He saw the librarian glancing around, gesturing at the two men. Looking frustrated, she started making gestures toward the door he’d just left through.

As they started heading in his direction, Samuel spun around and ran down the stairs, catapulting himself down the last several steps. He sprinted to the right and heading toward a nearby parked car. Ducking behind it, he glanced back toward the library door. Standing at the entrance were both guys, intently scanning the area. Ducking back down, he swore he could feel their gaze pass over the car. Pulling himself down into a tight ball, he hoped that they wouldn’t spot him. His arm seemed to get hot for a moment, then went back to normal. After a few minutes, he glanced back around the car. The men were nowhere to be seen. Taking a chance, he got up and sprinted away, effortlessly dodging people as he put distance between himself and the library. As he ran, he wondered what that creature had been, who the guys were, and what the strange tingling sensations he kept getting meant.

Cora read through the preliminary lab results from the warehouse incident again.

“Frank, does any of this make sense to you?”

Frank glanced up from his copy to look at her before looking back at the file.

“Nope, not one bit. Maybe we should head down to see if they can explain it so it makes sense.”

Cora glanced back down at the report. If what she was reading was accurate, then most of ash and dust that had been found at the scene came back as cremated remains, or something very similar to it.

“Even though the ash resembles the material recovered after a cremation is performed, it’s missing some of the mineral content normally found in cremated human remains. They don’t give an estimate of how many cremated bodies worth of ash they recovered though.”

“Well,” Cora said as she typed something into her computer, “assuming the ash they’ve recovered was, in fact, from cremated bodies, a quick search says that the average cremated body weighs between four to six pounds. The report mentioned they recovered at least a hundred pounds of the stuff and they’re still recovering more, so…”

Cora punched some keys on a calculator.

“Looks like somewhere in the ballpark of twenty bodies’ worth, give or take. Think there might be a local funeral home involved? Or maybe a vet if it turns out to be animal remains?”

“Maybe, but it’s unlikely to be animal remains. I mean, how many people actually pay to cremate their pets. I’m leaning toward it being human remains since we also found intact bodies there.”

Frank paused a moment to consider what she said.

“Well, I could see a funeral home or crematorium sneaking one, maybe two bodies out, but twenty bodies worth of ash? I don’t buy it… This is something else.”

“What about someone making their own crematorium?”

Frank set his folder down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Looking back up, he replied.

“Cora, with all the weird stuff happening so far in this case, the fact that I’m considering the possibility of a perp building their own crematorium seems almost mundane. Honestly…”

Frank got a strange look on his face. Then he picked up the folder and studied it a few minutes. Cora waited while he work through what he was thinking. She was fresh out of ideas anyway. After a few minutes, he looked up.

“You said that the amount of ash worked out to around twenty bodies, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“And from this report, there was an additional forty-some odd bodies scattered around the warehouse as well, correct?”

“Yeah, where you going with this Frank?”

“Hear me out. Right now, the rough estimate is around at least sixty bodies in that warehouse, right?”

“Yeah…?” she said, waving her hand in a hurry up and finish gesture.

“Well, where did they all come from? Why haven’t we had a huge number of calls coming in reporting ‘Johnny’ missing, or ‘Sandy’ never coming home from her party?”

“You know, now that you mention it, that is kinda strange. With that many bodies, you’d think we’d would of gotten at least a few calls about it, but I haven’t heard anything over the past couple days. How could that many people, cremated and otherwise, go unreported this long?”

“What if a majority of them were homeless people? Maybe this is the end result of an underground fight club or something. Ya know, kinda like bum wars, but without the losers walking away from it? That would explain the cremated remains as well. Maybe they just didn’t have time to torch all the bodies…”

Cora saw a pensive look on his face.

“What?”

“If my theory’s correct, and the more I roll the idea around my head, the more solid it seems… if it’s correct, then what does that make our suspect?”