Nocturnal

A New Day

Bryan shut the Buick’s door. He looked up at 1969 California Street. The Jessups would have answers, had to have answers. If they didn’t … well, then for their sake he hoped they knew someone who did.

Bryan walked to the rusted gate door. He pressed the buzzer. He looked through the diagonal bars to the house’s door atop the stairs. Nothing moved.

The air felt cool on his face. He reached up, felt the short, neat beard on his cheeks and chin. He’d left Robin in bed, asleep, but he had trimmed his ridiculous tangle before coming out here. He’d left her a fresh pot of coffee and a note on the dining room table: I LOVE YOU.

They’d slept through the morning and well into the afternoon. Robin must have needed sleep in a bad way, as she didn’t wake up when Bryan slid out of bed. That was good — he had to do this alone. No Robin, no Pookie. Those two might try to temper Bryan’s reactions, but he didn’t want anyone to temper anything. Playtime was over. Pookie had left a dozen voice mails, each funnier than the last. There was concern within that humor, but Bryan wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. John Smith called as well. He’d left a long-ass message that connected a lot of dots about Chief Zou and Erickson.

Bryan pressed the buzzer again. He ran his hands along the stylishly rusted gate’s half-inch-thick crisscrossing bars. The thing looked like it could hold back a charging rhino. Yeah, the Jessups knew what kind of dangers ran through this city, and they guarded against them.

Moments later, the interior door opened. Adam Jessup bounced down the stairs. His silver jewelry and black rocker outfit looked identical to the last time except now he wore a BULLET FOR MY VALENTINE concert T-shirt instead of the one that had read KILLSWITCH ENGAGE.

“Not you again,” he said with a sneer. “You ain’t getting in this time without a warrant, cop. You got a warrant?”

Who did this little fuck think he was?

In one whip-snap motion, Bryan reached through the bars, grabbed the back of Adam’s neck and yanked him forward, pinning the man’s face hard against the rusted iron.

“If warrant means will I break your fucking neck if you don’t open this door, then yeah, I got a warrant.”

Adam clawed at Bryan’s hand, so Bryan squeezed harder. Adam winced, tried to say something, but he couldn’t get a word out.

“You should open the gate now,” Bryan said. “Then the pain might go away.”

Adam’s hands flailed at the gate’s inside handle. Bryan heard a click and the door opened. He pushed Adam away — it seemed like a light push, but Adam flew back to crash into the stone steps.

Byran walked inside and closed the gate-door behind him. He saw Adam lying there, moaning, hands rubbing his throat. Bryan’s mind seemed to clear. Had he done that to Adam? He had, and for what?

Because he pissed you off.

Bryan stepped forward and reached out a hand to help Adam up when the whuff of a silenced gun coincided with a shredded white spot appearing in the floor between his feet.

Bryan froze, moving only enough to look up to the stairs that led into the house. On the top step stood Alder Jessup, who was pointing his cane at Bryan’s chest.

“That will be quite enough,” Alder said.

A thin curl of smoke wafted out of the cane’s hollow bottom.

“A cane-gun?” Bryan said. “Seriously?”

Alder nodded. “Just sit down where you are. I’ve got four more shots in this weapon. Move and I’ll kill you.”

Bryan studied the old man. Alder was leaning against the wall — he couldn’t even stand without using the cane for help. And yet the man’s hands looked rock-steady, as did the barrel of the cane-gun.

Bryan sat.

Alder eased himself down until he sat on the top step. The cane-gun now rested on his right knee, barrel still pointed at Bryan.

“Why are you here?” Alder said. “Why are you assaulting my grandson?”

Adam held his lower back with one hand, his bleeding nose with the other.

Bryan shrugged. “Sorry about that. I, uh, I guess I got a little mad.”

Alder nodded. “Then I would hate to see you when you lose your temper. Again, why are you here?”

“I want answers,” Bryan said. “I want all the answers. I want to know how Jebediah Erickson can do what he does when he’s in his seventies. I want to know why he kills Marie’s Children. I want to know why he tried to kill me.”

Adam stood, wincing from the pain. “Uncle Jeb didn’t try to kill you, shit for brains. He wouldn’t try to kill a cop.”

“Then I guess he just shot me for shits and giggles.”

Alder’s eyes narrowed. “He shot you? You must have been with someone else. Who was with you at the time?”

“Other cops,” Bryan said. “But he didn’t try to kill them. He wanted me.”

Alder and Adam exchanged a nervous glance.

Adam started slowly backing up the stairs. His arrogant attitude had vanished. “I don’t believe Uncle Jeb shot you. Show me where.”

Bryan reached to unzip his sweatshirt before he remembered — the bullet wound had already healed. Healed because he was a Zed, because he was one of Marie’s Children. In his morning optimism, flush with the good feeling of finally opening up to Robin, he’d managed to keep that little fact out of his thoughts. He let his hand drop to his lap.

“Grampa,” Adam said, “he’s one of the monsters. Kill him now.”

Bryan didn’t say anything. He stared at the bullet chip in the floor. He was a monster. He’d lost it with Adam, and for almost no reason. He could have snapped Adam’s neck. A part of him had wanted to do just that.

Maybe Alder’s bullet was the best thing for everyone.

“Do it, Gramps,” Bryan said. “Pull the trigger.”

Alder shook his head. “I will not.”

Adam walked up the stairs to his grandfather. “Then give me the cane. I’ll do it.”

“Shut up,” Alder said.

“But, Grampa, he—”

“Adam, shut your mouth!”

Adam took a step back and fell silent.

Alder lowered the cane. He slowly pushed himself up. He put the end of the cane on the top step and left it there, using it to help him stay standing. “Inspector Clauser, you said Erickson tried to kill you. I’ve never known him to fail. Why didn’t he finish the job?”

Bryan again looked at the chip in the floor. “Because I stabbed him.”

“Stabbed him,” Alder echoed. “What, exactly, did you stab him with?”

“His own knife,” Bryan said. He looked up. “A big silver one.”

Alder and Adam exchanged glances again. Their expressions hinted at panic.

“His knife?” Adam said. “Is he dead?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. He’s in the hospital.”

Alder shook his head sadly. “This is my fault. I just assumed Zou would handle it. She always has in the past. How could she let this happen?”

“Don’t blame her,” Bryan said, surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth. “She tried to stop us. We didn’t listen. We couldn’t let a vigilante run wild.”

Alder’s face wrinkled in scorn. “A vigilante? I can’t believe anyone could be that naive. Do you have any idea what we’re dealing with?”

Images of stuffed monsters flashed through Bryan’s thoughts. He nodded. “I saw Erickson’s basement.”

“Good,” Alder said. “You seem smart enough to believe what your eyes show you.”

Even from the first dream, a part of Bryan had known it was all real. The basement only confirmed that. “This wouldn’t have happened if Zou and Erickson — and you, for that matter — hadn’t kept this a secret.”

Alder sighed and shook his head. “Clearly, I was wrong about you being smart.”

“People need to know,” Bryan said. “We’re talking about actual fucking monsters here.”

Adam spit blood onto the stairs. “Uncle Jeb tried telling the truth once, after Zou tracked his ass down back in the day. He told people all about the monsters, and you know where he wound up? The loony bin.”

“But there’s proof,” Bryan said. “All those stuffed creatures in his basement.”

Alder walked down the stairs, again using his cane as just that — a cane. “You’re missing the obvious, Inspector. You never heard of monsters before this, because the monsters can’t be found by the police. They are hunters, so skilled that no one knows they exist, even when they murder their victims or take people away to wherever it is they take them. The only one who can find them, who can stop them, is Erickson. And, now, maybe you.

“The nightmarish ones Erickson stuffed — maybe the public will believe those are real, maybe they won’t, but believe it or not those creatures aren’t the biggest problem. You saw that some of Erickson’s trophies looked like regular people?”

Bryan thought back to the man with the hatchet. “Yes, there were a few.”

Alder reached the bottom step. “Stand up.”

Bryan did.

“The problem is the ones that look like us,” Alder said. “Erickson looks like us. You look like us. If you show the world the monsters, and show them that some of the monsters look like regular people, what do you think would happen?”

Bryan thought of Robin, of her little machine that could quickly and easily test for the Zed chromosome. If people knew that some of the monsters looked like regular people, there would be a campaign to test everyone. And if someone other than Robin tested Bryan, found out he was one of them …

“Maybe they find a reason to put me away,” he said.

Alder nodded. “And if that happens, Inspector Clauser, who will be left to find the monsters that can’t be found? Who will stop them from killing at will?”

What if Alder was right? Would anyone trust a man with the Zed chromosome? No, not if they also found out about the creatures. This was all so fucked up. No one would trust his kind, not without a civil rights campaign, education — things that took years if not decades.

Erickson had been locked up once. Because of that, hundreds of people had died. Erickson was still in the hospital — did that mean Bryan was the only one who could find the monsters?

Maybe someday soon Bryan would let the world know. Robin could help. She could get the scientific community behind it, try to use facts to temper the public’s probable reaction. Someday, but today was not that day.

“Okay,” Bryan said. “You’re right. We keep the secret. So what do we do now?”

Alder tapped his cane on the floor twice, click-click. “We have to go to the hospital. If Marie’s Children find out Savior is hurt, they might come after him. You need to help us protect Erickson until he heals.”

Bryan shook his head. “I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Well, I sort of got fired.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s just fucking fantastic. Thank goodness we have you on our side. Such an asset to the team.”

Alder didn’t seem phased by the news. He looked Bryan up and down, then turned to his grandson. “Adam. I think the time has come for a new Savior.”

Adam stared at his grandfather for a moment, then started laughing. “A pig? Grampa, have you been taking too many meds? There’s no way we can—”

“Adam! There isn’t any other choice! It has to be Bryan.”

Has to be Bryan? What were they talking about? Alder didn’t mean …

“Me? You want me to be a Savior?”

Alder nodded. “Except for Jebediah, all the other Saviors are dead. This is your destiny.”

“Destiny? Give me a break, man. I’ve got some messed-up genetics and a family that lied to me my whole life. That’s tragedy, not destiny. What’s next? You going to tell me everything happens for a reason?”

Alder shook his head. “No. I’m going to tell you that if you don’t help us, Erickson may die and this city will turn into a hellhole.”

Bryan thought of the shark-toothed man on the embalming table. He’d felt that man’s fear in a nightmare, felt the terror at the unforgiving hands of Savior.

“Erickson tried to kill me. If I save him, am I going to wind up stuffed in that basement?”

Alder shook his head. “Jebediah reacted on instinct. For so long, he’s been the only one hunting Marie’s Children. But if you join us, Bryan, we will have two Saviors. You could hunt together.”

Hunt together. Erickson was his half-brother. So were all the other obscenities, but Erickson wasn’t like them; he was a protector, not a murderer. A harsh reality hit home — Jebediah Erickson might be the only true family Bryan could ever have.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. This all sounds crazy, I’m just trying to figure out what to do next.”

Alder nodded. “That’s logical. But won’t you at least see what we have to offer? I realize the last basement you saw may have been disturbing, but if you’re anything like Jebediah, you’ll find our basement far more to your liking”

Alder and Adam walked deeper into the house.

Bryan didn’t know what else to do, so he followed.