“Good job, buddy.”
“Atta boy, nice moves.”
A couple more pats on the back and I was able to move aside and straighten my disheveled self.
“Hey Gordon, where the hell did you come from?”
I looked up to see Sommers staring at me.
“Ah..I was over in the woods, following a blood trail and when I came out, I was just in time to join that little fiasco.”
“Roma wants to see us. Nice takedown, by the way. Fast.”
“Thanks.”
We trudged over to where Roma was holding court under the sheltering branches of a huge maple.. There were a few new faces I hadn't met yet and he made the intros as they all stared at my mud-covered uniform.
“Chris Gordon, meet Fran DeMarco, Brian Takata, and Chet Aikens.”
DeMarco was a tough looking fifty-ish white woman with short dirty blonde hair. Takata was Asian, about five eight, blocky and had the same military demeanor as the six foot Sommers. Aikens was a skinny six foot plus black kid with geek glasses. Roma continued.
“Fran is our Medium, Brian comes out of a SWAT background and is our close combat expert. And Chet is our historian and all-round technical wizard,” he explained. “Gordon, here, turns out to be the mythical demon hammer we've been hearing about, although it appears he has other talents. Quick thinking Chris.”
I just nodded, keeping my mouth shut. I'm a firm believer in letting them wonder if you're an idiot, rather than speaking too quickly and removing all doubt. The Inspector looked around the group and then said, “Well, what have we got? Fran? Why don't you lead off.”
She nodded, took a breath and began.
“I was able to find the ghost of one of the dead assailants, but he was almost incoherent. He last remembered hanging at a drug party, probably last night, and suddenly found himself here. He's already moved on. I was just talking to the dead woman over there.” She waved her hand at the blanket covered body with the foot sticking out. “She said they came out of nowhere and one of them just lit into her. I couldn't get anything else, ‘cause something spooked her, and every other spirit around here, just before the last living perp went nuts and got Gordon all dirty.”
I was most likely the thing that scared off the woman's spirit. Ghosts were afraid of me for some reason. Peter’s group wouldn’t let me go ghost hunting, because nothing showed up when I was around.
“Let me guess, it was a Hance party?” Roma asked.
Fran nodded.
“Gina?” Roma moved to her next.
“The wounded mentioned that the bulk of the attackers targeted a woman and little boy. Someone's guard dog chewed up several of the perps, but no one remembers seeing the kid, the woman or the dog after. It was, by all accounts, mass confusion.”
“Steve?”
“A pair of Central Park Precinct guys were close by and heard the screams. They shot and killed one perp on arrival. We all saw the second to last get his button punched just after we got here, and the last one is Gordon's little playmate in the squad car,” the big officer reported. “ All the living perps responded like they were on Angel Dust, but worse. Buncha officers got slammed around by some skinny under nourished drug heads.”
Takata was nodding agreement with that information.
“Chet?”
“EMTs and Crime Scene types are taking blood samples, but initial guesses indicate N'Hance as the most likely culprit, although they must have all had massive doses. We'll know more in a couple of hours.”
Roma nodded and turned to me. “What about you, Gordon? Anything to add?”
I normally hang back a bit, but decided what the hell.
“Sir, I tracked six individuals entering the park from the Girl's Gate. Tire tracks and deep footprints look like they came out of a van or other similar vehicle. The six traveled straight west across the main part of the field, till two broke off, one north and one south, each attacking an individual, both of whom were women. One of the women was killed.” I waved at the same blanket covered corpse that Fran had interviewed. “Four of the attackers concentrated on what appears to be a woman and child. Almost immediately, one attacker died of a broken neck. The woman's tracks disappear and a large dog next takes out two of the attackers. The fourth attacker runs away to the northeast. The boy and the dog headed northwest into the woods, with one of them bleeding, most likely the dog. I tracked them to a big rock arch with a stream and trail running under it. They appeared to have held up in a little crevice, then left. That's all I could come up with , Sir.” I didn't add the fact that the dog turned into a naked woman. All six of them were just staring at me.
“You a tracker, Chris?” Roma asked.
“Yes sir, since I was a kid. Worked with Search and Rescue in the Adirondacks back home,” I answered.
“Can you take us to the arch?” he asked.
I did one better and walked them through the tracks right back up to the crevice in the arch, which was vacant. I showed them the few remaining blood spots, as the rain had washed away most. Chet the technical guy, swabbed a sample, which was probably not a good thing, but there was nothing I could do about it. I spied a granola bar wrapper in the little stream that one of the team calls the Loch. The wrapper was ignored, as was the other litter floating down the waterway. The arch was apparently called Huddlestone.
Chapter 10
After walking back to the vehicles, the team broke apart, everyone headed out on separate tasks. Roma sent me back to my home precinct, but told me to meet him at the 68th in the morning. After that, Sommers dropped me at the nearest subway entrance and I headed home. I boarded a southbound line, ignoring the other passengers’ sidelong glances at my muddy uniform. A five- person street crew took up one end of the subway car, their music loud but bearable. One of them stared at me, which I ignored. Finally, I locked eyes with him, expecting a confrontation with the well muscled young street dancer. Instead he grinned and snapped his fingers. “I know you. You the dude on the news. Took down that crazy Hancer in the Park.”
“It made the news?” I asked.
“Yeah man. Here let me show ya.” He held up his cell phone and his buddies crowded around as we watched the news clip he’d downloaded.
“Damn man, you fast for a white dude,” one the crew commented.
“Thanks.” I fumbled my own cell out, thinking I should text Tanya before she saw it. Too late. My cell vibrated with an incoming text.
T: Where are u?
C: Manhattan subway- headed home.
T: Why?
C: long story. Interviewed with a special squad and ended up on a call with them.
T: Is that why you were on the news?
C: yeah. Strange day. Met a WW.
T: What?
C: what we talked about last night. Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my.
T: WHAT? Are you hurt? Bit?
C: no no. I’m fine. I helped WW and young WW.
T: Lydia asks u to describe.
C: Early 30’s, reddish brown hair, tall. Kid about 8 or 9, dark brown hair.
T: When will you get home?
C: 30 minutes?
T: see u there.
Twenty minutes later I got off the subway and headed up to the street where my car was. I had happened to park near a corner diner and as the food smells hit, my stomach protested my lack of attention to it. There wasn’t much to eat at my apartment, so I went in and found a booth. The place had a well-used feel to it and I was risking heart disease just smelling the food. A beefy middle aged guy was at the counter eating his way through something that looked like meatloaf and he eyed my muddy uniform as I made my way to the back of the restaurant. The waitress was young and punky, with multicolored hair and heavy kohl eyeliner. Her bored eyes perked up slightly as she perused my dirt encrusted self, her mouth chewing a wad of gum. “Been mud wrestling?” she said with a smirk.