© Copyright 2007 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior
express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are
not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments.
Enjoy.
Ask any paramedic, EMT, or emergency room staffer -- how many cases tell the same story. “I wuz jes standin’ on the corner mindin’ my own bidness when this dude ...”
And I was just mindin’ my own bidness... Finishing up the morning with Mrs. Drenker, her teen daughter Judy, and their obese housecat, Penelope. I’d looked at the cat, again. They brought it in because it was wheezing. No wonder! It’s so obese the poor thing’s lungs are being compromised!
“Let’s use my office while Maria finishes up,” I suggested to the ladies. Maria, my aide, would take the samples we needed; I was worried about kidney failure on top of everything else.
I let the ladies in, closing the door behind us. Joe was sitting on my desk, wearing the cloth antlers a friend made for him. Sort of an inside joke, but they cover the stubs he has during the daylight hours -- they’re an inch or two long.
“Oh what a cute bunny!” Mrs. Drenker said, petting Joe.
“I think he’s creepy,” Judy proclaimed, making a face. She had Joe’s number...
“Oh how can you say that about such a cute bunny,” her mother chided, making kissy faces at Joe.
“He’s a scrub jack!” Judy exclaimed, making a face. She moved closer to Joe and cooed, “Like to meet my new Michelins, bunny?”
Joe hopped from the desk to a sideboard.
“Oh, you’ve hurt his feelings...” her mother sighed.
I shook my head. Judy was a bright kid! “Let’s sit down.”
Joe was behind the ladies, but I could see him. The “cute bunny” showed glowing eyes and fangs for a moment...
“Mrs. Drenker,” I started out, “You’re still feeding that cat too much. You’re killing her.” Can’t put it more succinctly than that.
“But she enjoys eating so much!” Mrs. Drenker complained.
I shook my head. We’d had this conversation before. The phone rang, but someone picked it up -- must have been Maria. “Mrs. Drenker, she’s a cat,” I continued, repeating a past lecture.
“And not a very bright one,” Joe tossed into my head.
“She’s a cat who will eat until she explodes, which won’t be long,” I continued.
Mrs. Drenker wrung her hands. “What do I do?”
“Maria is taking samples so we can evaluate kidney function. We’ve gone over this before. You need to drastically restrict her diet -- we’ll provide a different diet, and the maximum you should give her per day. She needs lots of fresh water.”
“But we tried one of those horrible things, and she wouldn’t eat it! She just moped around the house, crying!” Mrs. Drenker pouted.
Judy made a face, rolling her eyes. She looked around, saw Joe, and pointed a finger at him.
“Mrs. Drenker, as I’ve told you before, when she gets hungry enough, she will eat. That might take a few days, possibly a week or two. And yes, she’ll be upset during the interim. But that animal is carrying enough fat that she could easily go two or three weeks without eating!”
Mrs. Drenker sighed.
“I know,” I sympathized, “you want her to be happy. So do I. That is not a happy animal. She should be fit, trim, and terrorizing the local rodent population.”
Judy turned and pointed at Joe again, smiling and nodding.
“Bring her on,” Joe thought at me.
That wouldn’t be pretty... But I had an idea. I wrote a note. “Could you take this to Maria, please?” I handed the note to Mrs. Drenker. She took it and left the room.
Judy looked at Joe, then back to me. Don’t think she trusted either of us. Smart kid.
“Judy, you’re smart. Do you want to help save that cat?”
Judy considered... “Yeah, I guess so. Whadda I do?”
I smiled. “Thanks. You still have a housekeeper?”
“Oh yah. And she hates that cat -- always horking up furballs.”
The housekeeper? “Okay... Talk to her, get her to help; throw out all the old cat food. We’ll give you a moist chow as a transition. Only put out so much a day, and if she doesn’t eat it by the time you go to bed, toss it! Put out more the next morning. When she gets hungry, she’ll eat!”
She nodded. “Okay, but mom will sneak her stuff.”
“And if you see that, and tell the housekeeper, yell at her! Don’t let her do it! She’s killing the damn cat! It would be more humane for her to just shoot it!”
Judy grinned. “Yah, sounds like fun.”
I stood up. “Take control of the situation. If you want, tell your mom you’re taking care of her now. Give me a call in a few days and let me know how things are going, okay?”
Judy smiled as she stood up. “Sure, Doctor Harris. I guess I do love the furball.” She pointed to Joe again. “You are creepy.”
“She’s got your number, sport,” I thought at Joe as we left the office.
“Too skinny for you, and the cat’s too fat for me,” Joe tossed back.
“Think they’ll do it?” Maria asked me after they left the office.
I shrugged. “Might -- I gave Judy the okay to needle her mother.”
Maria laughed. “Then it might work! Oh, Mrs. Wilson called -- their dog ran in from outside late last night, absolutely soaked, ran under one of the kid’s beds, and they haven’t been able to get it to come out since. It just stays under there whimpering. I can stop by on my way to the Fosters’ place.”
“Thanks. Probably decided to chase something that didn’t want to be chased,” I muttered. Like Joe... Joe and I share a dislike for handbag terriers...
Went back to my office and closed the door. “Took someone for a swim last night?” I suggested to Joe.
He scratched, ignoring me.
“Like the Wilson’s dog?” I asked, standing over him.
“You said he needs more exercise,” Joe said, avoiding eye contact.
“Well, at least you weren’t spotted.”
This time -- a few months earlier, the Wilson’s housekeeper had been in hysterics; she thought she saw a huge bat with antlers carrying off the dog one night.
Joe chewed on one of his back paws, continuing to ignore me.
So I’m back to mindin’ my own bidness after lunch when the phone rings. Maria takes it, and soon calls out, “Bob, this one’s for you! Doctor Robin Slater on line two!”
Picked up the phone. “Doctor Slater! Robin! To what do I owe this pleasure!” We’d gone to vet school together. “How are you doing?” Hadn’t heard from her since graduation!
We made smalltalk for a few minutes; she had a nice practice in West Texas, some wealthy clients, horses and cattle mostly, with the occasional exotic -- ostrich, emu, llama, alpaca.
“And that’s why I’m calling,” she said. “Bob, you’ve got a reputation ... for, how do I say it, dealing with more exotic species...”
“Okay, how big is it, and how bad does it smell?”
She sighed. “It smells like the devil, and it’s too damn big... The foreman for a local ranch gave me a call. He’s a good, solid guy, and manages a big spread. Something’s been killing cattle, uprooting vegetation, making a mess, but it’s in badlands they don’t visit much. He took a crew out... Javelina? It killed four of his dogs...”
Javelina are a native wild peccary. They can be mean. No, they usually are mean, with nasty tusks, very territorial, and travel in mobs. Killing dogs isn’t unusual for them.
“And Bob, stay with me on this, but they couldn’t shoot it, they kept missing, is what they said. And when they roped it, the ropes broke, well they said they burst into flame...”
“Do its eyes glow?” I asked in an offhand way. “Nasty red, not the usual canine or retinal orange.”
“Yes! How did you know!”
“Expected that. They didn’t miss. Do they know where it is now? General area?”
“Oh, better than that! It didn’t like the horses -- they managed to get it penned in an old cattle chute...”
“Must be iron,” I mused.
“Yes, I believe it is -- old, rusty, and quite solid, in spite of how hard that beast runs into it. I can’t believe it can ram those bars that hard and not injure itself!”
“You’ve seen it?” From a distance, I hope.
“Yes, early this morning; I just got back. Bob, that thing scares me! Looks way to big to be a javie -- got to be over 120 pounds, but it has straight tusks, and smells like the devil. Anyone comes close, and it charges! It scares the hands; they won’t go near it, and neither will the horses. They’d give chase, but now that it’s cornered, they won’t get close.”
“Those are the smart ones,” I told her. “Have everyone stay away.” I sighed. How to handle this one? A were-beast, worse? Charmed, at the least.
“They’ve figured that. But Pedro, the foreman, wants rid of it. Bob, I stood there, and he tried shooting it with a rifle, and he missed from like thirty feet!”
“He didn’t miss.”
“What are you saying? That he hit it, but the bullets didn’t do any damage?” she asked incredulously.
“Would certainly seem that way, wouldn’t it? You were there. Would a skilled hand miss from that distance?” Trying to get her to analyze things. “What can I do to help?”
She sighed. “Can you take a look at this thing? Help us get rid of it? How do we get rid of it? One of the hands is for dousing it with gasoline and torching it.”
“That would just make it mad,” I told her. “I could be there tomorrow; it’s a drive.”
“We can pick you up in an hour, and have you here an hour after that. Bob, this thing scares me. Even the pictures scare me.”
“You got pictures?”
“Yes,” she said, “and that was weird, too. I had my camera, and I got pictures, but when I looked through the viewfinder, I couldn’t see it! Yet I got pictures! So weird!”
The bottom fell out of my stomach. This was bad.
“Robin, stay away from there,” I told her seriously. “Have everyone stay away.”
“Do you know what it is? What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“Robin, start whatever you need to do to get me picked up as soon as possible. Tell the foreman to keep everyone away from that thing. I need to call a colleague.”
She sounded concerned, which was good. She verified my address. Yes, I had a wide clear area, a good sized field off to the side of the new barn. Big enough for a chopper to land? Should be fine -- a hundred yards or so on a side, clear. She gave me her phone numbers; I told her I’d call her after I made another call, and tell EVERYONE to STAY AWAY from that thing!
“Bob, you’re scaring me,” she whispered.
“Good! I’ll talk to you in a few minutes, and see you in a couple of hours. I’ll be bringing some equipment, and probably a friend.” I looked to Joe, who sat up and stared at me.
“Okay, Bob. Talk to you in a few. Glad you can help, I think...”
She agreed to e-mail me the pictures, and hung up.
I looked at Joe. “Pay attention -- we’re going for a ride.”
I hit speed dial and called Johnny. Bronx prefix, last three digits 666. Johnny has a sense of humor.
“Better be good,” he slurred into the phone after the tenth ring or so. He was probably still sleeping, or sleeping it off...
“Johnny, this is Doctor Bob. Need your help with a problem.”
“Yah? Whazzup.”
“Johnny, did you do a drunk last night?” I accused.
He laughed. “Yah, an’ he was sweet... Whaddya want?”
“You have any cousins in Texas right now? West Texas, may have lost a pet?”
“Might, whaddya got?”
“Javelina...”
“Whudafukszat?” he slurred.
“Call it a wild boar. Tusks, glowing eyes, rope it and the ropes burst into flame, bullets don’t hurt it, oh, and it doesn’t have a reflection.”
“Huh! Yah, you gotta problem! It killed anybody yet?”
E-mail arrived -- from Robin. I opened it. Looked at the picture and whistled. Joe hopped onto the desk and looked. He gave me a startled look. “You want to mess with that?” he asked.
I nodded, and forwarded the pic to Johnny.
“Just sent you a pic of it. So far it’s only done dogs and cattle.”
“Jes gettin’ warmed up... Hokay, I make some calls.”
“Johnny, I’d appreciate it. I’m headed out there in an hour or so, with a load of malachite and silver. I’ll take Joe, but I’d like some backup on this one.”
“Dat fucker eat Joe for snack!” Johnny proclaimed, and Joe must have been listening in, because he sat up real straight! “Heh -- any bad lightnin’ storms around dere? Betcha dere was.”
“Don’t know -- I’ll find out, though.”
“Hokay -- I got yer numbers, and I’m awake. You dealin’ wit bad shit, I think you know, but you be careful -- don’t go after dat fucker without help. I get someone. Hokay? You unnerstand?”
“Oh, I understand, Johnny. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me ‘till tomorrow.”
“You’re really encouraging on this one, Johnny,” I told him.
He laughed. “You bright guy, Doc -- maybe bright enough to see da sun come up tomorrow.”
I called Robin.
“A chopper should be there in about an hour,” she told me.
“Okay, I’ll be ready.”
“Bob, what are we dealing with?”
My cell phone breeped. Johnny -- I answered it. “Yah, Johnny. What do you need?”
“Saw da pic -- you gotta big problem. Where dis sick fuck at?” he asked.
Into the other phone, I asked, “Robin, can you give me a location for this beast?”
“You near a computer with Google Earth?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. Johnny, bring up Google Earth.”
We had a sort-of three way call, zooming in on some tough looking country. I passed questions from Johnny, and answers from Robin. Yes, near highway 172. Was the chopper taking me to the site? No, I’d be dropped at Robin’s and we’d take her truck from there, about a 20 minute drive to the ranch, and then another half hour to the area, and a five minute walk in. This was sounding like loads of fun...
Johnny told me, “Dis fuck he gotta go down. You be careful!”
“Thanks, Johnny,” I told him. He hung up.
“Bob, what is that thing?” Robin asked again.
I sighed. “Robin, what kind of camera did you use?”
“Nikon D-50, fairly new, why?”
“Robin, when you look through the viewfinder, you’re looking through mirrors,” I told her.
She paused for a moment, then gasped. “You don’t expect me to believe...”
I shook my head. “Doctor Slater, I merely made an observation on the optical path of your camera. Evidently you drew a conclusion from that, and you have a problem with your conclusion...”
“But... Do such things exist?” she asked in a whisper.
I almost laughed. “Robin, you saw it.” With these beasts, asking that question is a good way to piss ‘em off.
She sighed. “Okay, what can I do to prepare in the next hour and a half until you’re here.”
A good question... “Got any Catholic churches nearby, with active congregations?”
“Yes, why?”
“A few liters of holy water, like from their baptismal font, would help.”
“You’re serious.”
“Robin dear, the colleague I spoke to told me I was a bright guy, maybe bright enough to see the sun come up tomorrow. Trust me on this.”
“Okay... I’ve got a bad feeling...”
“Robin, this is an occasion to trust those feelings. See you in a while -- I need to pack.”
I told Maria to take off -- I was going on a housecall and probably not be back until tomorrow evening. If I wasn’t back by nine in the morning, cancel out the whole day.
I packed, starting with the 40 cal Glock and the handmade plus-loaded rounds made of local silver and malachite. On second thought, got the 9mm Glock and the silver rounds for it as well.
Had a thought, guns and ammo on the table, next to the fairy dust and my stocks of holy water.
“Joe, anything you can do to make these nastier?”
Joe shook his head. “For that thing, yes -- put them on the floor, y tu guns tambien .”
I put the guns and ammo on the floor. Joe did a wailing dance around them.
I gathered more stuff, including Joe’s traveling kennel. He didn’t like that. “You can stay here,” I suggested.
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t miss this one. And Johnny would be pissed if I let you get hurt.”
And we don’t want to get Johnny upset; we both agreed on that.
Went back to the main house to change. Put on my old camo pants, jump boots, the whole deal. I knew I could do 48 hours or more in these clothes; I’d done it before, but not for a few years. Look in the bright side -- after what, a dozen years, they still fit.
Had another thought and grabbed some liter bottles from my Open Clinic kit.
Moved things to the porch, the guns in my pelican transport case. “In you go, Joe,” I told my assistant, pointing to his carrier.
He made a rude noise but hopped in. I closed the front.
My pack was set up to carry a lot of the stuff, including six liters of holy water, and two liters of concentrated colloidal silver solution. I’d make up some balloons on the ride out.
Cell phone call -- Robin. “Yes, dear?”
She told me the chopper was about ten minutes out, and she was going to get some holy water -- she’d worked with one pastor before, and told him she wanted it to bless some animals. Good job!
Not just a chopper -- Texas National Guard chopper! Someone is well connected! A guy hopped out of the back and walked to me. He was in uniform -- instinct, I guess, or training. I saluted him, and he returned the salute.
“Doctor Harris?”
“Ready to go,” I told him, pointing to the cage, picking up my pack. “Sidearms in there,” I said, pointing to the pelican case. “That a problem?”
“No sir,” he answered.
Another joined us, from the front of the bird. “Got a head I can use?” he asked.
We shook hands. “In the door to the right, Captain,” I told him, reading his shoulder bars.
The first one, Carl, looked me over and said, “Nice boots -- where’d ya get ‘em?”
I smiled. “Got these the hard way -- four years as an Army medic, mostly with Special Forces in places ending in -stan.”
“Damn expensive boots,” he said.
“Got that right!”
I was all too familiar with the inside of their chopper. I got myself and my equipment (including Joe) secured. The flight was noisy but uneventful, bringing back a lot of memories, some less pleasant than others. The view was even similar. At least nobody was shooting at us. Didn’t take long to fly over the little chunk of Arizona, the bottom of New Mexico, and into West Texas.
We put down at a small place, a few fenced acres. House, barn, other outbuildings -- typical of a rural vet. I saw Robin standing by a few year old Jeep Grand Cherokee. She’d put on weight in the last decade or so, and it looked good on her.
Carl unclipped and came back; I guess they weren’t going to shut things down, so I unclipped and helped unload my gear. I saluted the pilot, he returned it, and they took off.
Robin is about five foot eight, and I’d guess weighed in around one fifty, perfect for me, and well suited for our business. Some times you need the mass, the muscle.
“You still look great!” she told me after we hugged.
“So do you, Robin,” I replied with a smile.
She shook her head and chuckled. “Let’s get loaded up and on the road.”
“I should make a pit stop first,” I told her.
She nodded. “Good idea.”
We talked a bit about her setup; similar to what I had, what a lot of us had in this business. She was lucky, she told me, with some good clients. The one with the problem was on the Texas Railroad Commission, one of the most powerful organizations in the state. That helped explain my ride.
Outside, we walked back to her Jeep and my gear.
“Let me out of this thing!” Joe called in my head.
I opened his cage and he hopped out, shaking out the kinks.
“Ah, Bob, just why did you bring ... him?” Robin asked.
“Tell her,” I said out loud to Joe.
Joe turned and sat up, looked at her, and said quite plainly, “Yo soy tu buen suerte, chiquita,” -- our good-luck for the trip.
She’s made of strong stuff; she didn’t go down, but gave me a look. “Bob, did ... he just talk?”
I smiled. “His name is Joe. We’ve worked together for a decade or so.”
She frowned a bit and sighed. Jacks live two, maybe three years in the wild. “Pleased to meet you, Joe,” she told him.
“We’ll see tomorrow,” he muttered as he hopped off to a nearby bush.
“Did you get any holy water?” I asked as we loaded things in her Jeep.
“Yes, a few liters, in the back. You really think...”
I nodded. “I’ll make up some balloons on the way, some with yours, and some with mine.”
She frowned.
“You have a handgun?”
She nodded. “9 mil. Why?”
I opened the gun case and took out a clip of 9mm ammo. “Load it with these, now.”
She looked at the clip I handed her, and frowned more. “What are these? No, silver?”
I smiled and nodded. “Local silver, blessed by a local brujo,” I told her.
She took a breath as if to speak, but closed her mouth and went to the back of the jeep.
I took Joe’s carrier around back. Robin was emptying her clip, loading the rounds I’d given her.
“This really works?” she asked.
“I sure hope so,” I told her.
“Hey! Any word from Johnny?” Joe asked as he hopped up.
Robin fumbled the clip, but didn’t drop it.
I pulled out my cell phone. I’d never turned it off. “Not yet. I’d expect a call soon, though.” I looked to Robin. “How long a drive?”
“About half an hour on the county roads to a side gate, another half hour to the top of the cut. Short walk from there. Last time I talked to the foreman, they’re all staying the hell away until we tell them different.”
“Good idea,” I told her as I put my bags in the back. “Can I use this box?” I asked her, pointing to an empty cardboard box with handles.
“Sure.”
I lined it with a plastic trash bag and set it in the back. “I’ll put the balloons in this,” I muttered, grabbing the supplies I’d need to make them.
“Water balloons?” she asked.
“Filled with holy water, and silver solution,” I told her.
She just shook her head.
“Hop in, Joe!” I called, and he hopped into the back. I closed the door and got in on the passenger side.
Robin got in, glanced back at Joe. “Will he be okay back there?”
“I’ll be fine,” Joe answered.
She took another breath, exhaling in a controlled fashion.
I almost laughed. “You’re doing fine.”
“Vamanos...” Joe echoed from the back seat.
We headed off.
A little ways down the road, she asked, “So, I heard you had some interesting times after we got out of school. Who was it? Jamie?”
I winced. “Yah. And who were you with? Richard?”
She frowned and nodded. “Yes -- and people were right, he was a prick. What happened with you, though? Last I knew, you were breaking up with her, looking at moving back to Wyoming?”
I nodded. That’s where I’d grown up, both my dad and an uncle were vets. “Yah, breaking up, thought things were done.” I took a breath. “People told me she was a controlling bitch, and to be careful. I thought we parted on good terms. Then she went and told her daddy she was pregnant...”
“Was she?” Robin asked.
I shrugged. “Nah.”
“But daddy raised hell?”
Shook my head. “Daddy wasn’t the problem -- oh, he was pissed, but her redneck judge uncle had me beaten, arrested, and thrown in his rancid county jail. But he has a forgiving side -- he gave me a choice -- join the military and help bring Christ and democracy to heathen lands, or rot in his jail.”
“No!”
“Oh yah... Even brought in a recruiter to sign me up on the spot. That guy took a little pity on me, though. And the army, since I’d graduated cum laude from one of the premier veterinary medicine programs in the country, decided I should be a medic.”
She laughed. “I was guessing cook...”
“Damn close. Eight months accelerated training, and off to country that looks a lot like this, except they have poppies and the occasional camel.”
“We’ve got camel around here -- now I know who to call when we have problems.”
“Only if you want ‘em put down,” I grumbled. Been spit on by too many damn camels.
She chuckled. “But you survived, and got out.”
“Yah, that I did. Got out, made a run at nursing, emergency room stuff, but ended up taking over a vet practice, out East of Tucson. Worked out well. How about you?”
She shook her head. She’d had a more nominal path, and better luck, leveraging family connections into work for some good folks. She was busy and comfortable. She...
My phone rang -- Johnny. “Yo, Johnny.”
“Pick her up at 172 and J10 -- andferfucksake, be careful!” click.
I looked at the phone and folded it back up. “We meet at 172 and J10 -- you know where that is?” I asked Robin.
She nodded. “About a mile from the gate.”
I settled into filling water balloons. “Yellow ones are silver water, red are plain holy water, and the blue are mixed,” I told her.
“Bob, these are going to make a difference? Actually do something?”
“Robin, if we need ‘em, I sure hope so.”
We made it to the spot where J10 meets 172, parked, and waited. All of us got out to walk around. Robin pointed out the terrain; we’d been driving along one edge of her client’s spread for a while. Must be nice. Of course he spent a lot of his time in Austin and other hotspots.
“She’s here,” Joe told us.
I turned, and saw her -- oh my, Sophira... She was walking up the road.
A little over six feet tall, lithe, boots, denim pants, shirt, leather jacket, hat -- lovely.
“Robin, this is Sophira,” I said, introducing her to the most beautiful vampire I’d ever met.
Sophira’s eyes were glowing. I heard Robin sigh. Sophira smiled and touched her. “You may call me Mistress,” she whispered, pulling Robin closer, taking her.
Joe made a rude noise, something he’s good at.
Sophira let Robin go and glanced at Joe. “I love you, too...”
She turned to me, touched me. “Hello again, my sweet,” she said through the cloud of softness that had enveloped me.
But then it was gone. We got back in the Jeep, with Sophira in the back, Joe in the middle, Robin and me up front.
“You spoke with Johnny?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied from the back seat. “I ...”
Robin -- it was almost funny, but she almost drove us off the road! When Sophira spoke up, Robin glanced in the rear-view mirror, didn’t see anything, panicked, and turned her head to look in the back seat!
But she recovered quickly. “Sorry,” she muttered, back to driving again.
“I saw it,” Sophira told us. “It must have been a very intense storm.”
“Bad lightning a while back?” I asked Robin, clarifying.
She nodded. “The worst we’ve seen around here! It’s connected?”
“Yes,” Sophira said. “It doesn’t belong to this world. I have called to others. We must send it back.”
We pulled up to the gate; I hopped out and opened it, closing it again after Robin drove through.
She parked and got out, going to the back. She opened it and took out her gun, putting on a holster. “We’re on private property now. I can carry, but I usually don’t.”
I nodded, put on my holster, and got my Glock, being sure one round was chambered.
“Jesus, what is that?” Robin asked.
“Glock 24C, parting gift from my Ranger friends,” I told her.
“Protect your eyes,” Sophira suggested from the back seat.
I nodded and got a little sprayer from my bag.
I turned to Robin. “Eyes wide open -- this won’t hurt.” I sprayed the fine mist across both her eyes. She blinked. “Don’t rub it. Now do me.” I handed her the sprayer and took off my sunglasses. The spray felt nice. She handed it back, and I packed it up.
“What was that, if I may ask,” she asked as we got back in the Jeep.
“Holy water and fairy dust,” I said. I swapped the polarized lenses in my Smith Slider sunglasses for yellow shooting lenses.
She just started the engine and drove along the dirt road. “We’ll park on a little mesa nearby, about a mile walk to the canyon where ... it is.”
“Good,” Sophira said. “We have preparations to make. I see you have made some already. You are properly armed?”
“Silver and malachite,” I replied, “With the best Joe could add.”
“That is good. We still have a minor problem, but I have an idea...”
Not sure I liked the amusement in her voice... I glanced back. Joe was in her lap, and she was petting him. His antlers were growing, and I’d bet something else was growing as well.
We pulled up and parked on a large flat rock on the mesa. We got out. Sophira put Joe on the ground, then opened the back of the Jeep. She took out a couple of folded blankets and spread them out on the grass off to the side. She sat down and waved to us.
“Sit with me,” she said.
We sat, on either side of her.
She closed her eyes for a moment. She shook her head and opened them. “It does not know we are here, yet. It senses something...” She looked at us. “And that is our problem. My friends are on their way. We cannot let it see into your minds; we cannot take the risk. If it can, there is a chance it might be able to do something... So...” She unclipped her long hair and let it flow. She smiled, reached out for us, eyes glowing...
She took us both, so easily. We were naked, rolling around on the blankets. I ended up between Sophira’s legs, eating her, pleasing her, delirious between her legs squeezing me, holding me. And she held Robin, kissing and sucking on her, a hand between her legs moving sensuously.
We dressed again. I put on my pack, loaded up, and got the cardboard box with the balloons. Robin carried a pack with more holy water, and her supplies. Joe was sporting a pretty full rack; he finished a long wailing dance around the Jeep.
Sophira pulled us close again. “You are in my aura, protected. I must approach first.” She kissed each of us on the forehead, even Joe.
We hiked down the cut, Sophira carrying Joe. We paused, a few hundred yards away from it, so Robin could catch her breath. I sensed it, and it sensed us.
The noise it made -- not from our world. And it was pissed!
At the bottom of the cut, an old cattle chute, old iron, ten feet long and a few wide.
The beast -- glowing malevolent eyes, making an unearthly noise, repeatedly ramming the bars, trying to get to us. Too big to be a javie, that’s for sure, yet with the overall build, tusks, and stink -- a stink with a sulphur tinge to it. It screamed, charging the bars, ramming into them, sending spit, dirt and stink into the air.
Joe’s eyes glowed as he sat up. The beast made more noise. Sophira’s eyes glowed, and she held out a hand, pointing a palm at the beast, whispering something. Whatever she said, the beast didn’t like it, and let us know! She circled the chute, once, twice, and on the third time, dragging a stick, drew a circle around it. The beast’s cries and violence increased, until she closed the circle, and suddenly we could barely hear it, even though it was still charging, ramming, the old iron bars of the chute. The fear and panic I felt also dropped tremendously.
Sophira made two more circles around it, then came to us.
“Do not breach the circles,” she told us. That I understood.
She glanced to the beast, then turned again to us. “You must free it, then we will send it back,” she said. “My friends... are almost here.”
“Free it!?” Robin asked incredulously.
I put a hand on my Glock. “Free it from this form,” I explained -- “Kill it.”
“Yes,” Sophira agreed. “And the sooner the better.”
Joe whistled, something he saves for special occasions.
“They arrive,” Sophira said, looking into the sky. Turning to us, “Hide your eyes!” she hissed.
I pulled Robin to me, pulling her head to my chest. I closed my eyes. “Don’t look,” I told her, holding her, trying to protect her. A sense of cold and darkness passed over and through us.
“You can open your eyes and look again,” Sophira told us.
Look? At what? Three wraiths, shifting gray-black forms arrayed themselves around the circles, leaving an opening...
I understood -- the opening was for us.
“You with us, Joe?” I asked.
“He remains with me,” Sophira told us, putting on a pair of my nitrile gloves.
“Robin, you get the balloons. We’ll start with a yellow one, then blue, save the reds.”
We moved to just outside the third circle. We could hear it cry, scream, and feel the impact of it ramming the bars trying to get to us. The bars were bending. We could see where it had dug into the concrete, exposing rebar.
I pulled out my Glock. “Toss him a yellow one. See how he likes that,” I said.
Robin picked up a yellow balloon. The beast became more animated.
“He thinks you’re stupid,” Joe told us.
“Right,” Robin said, tossing the balloon. “Let’s see what this does for its attitude!”
A nice arc, it hit the bars in front of him and burst, showering the beast.
We could see how it burned him, and hear it as well! Success! “Alternate blues and yellows, two more of each, ready with red when I say so,” I told her.
A blue one full in the face! Now he was really screaming, smoke coming from his eyes!
I aimed carefully, and put two shots into him. Each shot impacted, smoking, throwing the beast around. “Red one!” I called. Robin tossed a red one, but it only got him a little -- but where it did, where the holy water hit the wound, he started to burn! And stink, oh what a stink!
I alternated head and heart, Robin tossing in balloons. The effect was particularly good when they hit a wound. I only clanked the pipes of the chute once, and that seemed to fragment the shell and hit the beast in more than one spot.
Damn -- I hadn’t been keeping track. This clip should be about empty. One more, into a glowing eye...
A solid hit, and that was the last one for this clip, the slide locked back.
And as I switched clips, the beast turned, its cries changed -- now it was trying to get away!
Robin fired off three double-taps, clanking one on the pipes, but landing the rest solid, the beast now trying to escape us.
I added three rounds right along the spine and it flopped to the bottom of the chute. “Two red ones!” I called. Robin lobbed them in. They hit and the beast stopped making noise, barely moving now.
“Back away!” Sophira called.
We backed out; Robin and I hugged. We’d done it!
“Take off the top -- party later!” Joe yelled at me. Robin managed a gasp -- Joe had sprouted his wings, leathery bat-things, and claws. Sophira handed me a bottle of holy water; even wearing gloves, she didn’t want to risk it. I took the top off. Joe grabbed it carefully in his talons, flew over the chute, and more or less hovering, emptied it on the beast. He had to dip and swerve some to avoid steam and flames. He came back for another bottle, and emptied that. It wasn’t screaming any more. It wasn’t moving, either.
Damn, we’d done it! I felt good! And so did Robin, holding and squeezing her.
Uh oh... We felt the air change, the skies darken. A dark chill swept through the area. Robin clutched at me.
I realized -- we’d freed it, freed it from the limitations of this form. Now it was up to Sophira and her friends. I hoped those circles she’d cast would hold up!
Cold wind whipped around us, ominous noises rolling through the canyon.
“Go!” Sophira cried. “Now! Out of here! Wait at your wagon! Hurry!”
I grabbed my pack, and Robin grabbed hers. Sophira gave us a shove. “Go! Hurry! Flee!”
I got it! I grabbed Robin’s hand and started out.
We were maybe a mile and a half from the Jeep, the trail we’d taken zigzagging up the cut, picking up maybe a hundred feet of elevation. No big deal, right?
No big deal for me -- I was in damn good shape. I was worried about Robin.
“Don’t look back!” I yelled at her. I didn’t want to know what was going on back there! I grabbed for the tactical light I kept clipped to my pack, and turned it on. It was getting dark, and nasty! It felt nasty around us, gloomy, malevolent, cold -- and it started to rain, pelting us with big, cold drops.
As we left level ground, it turned into a moaning, menacing downpour. The side of the cut, not good enough to be a horse trail, turned to trecherous, slippery, mud. I was glad for the shooting glasses -- they were keeping the rain out of my eyes.
Robin slipped and fell first; I grabbed her by a pack strap so she wouldn’t go face-down in the mud. We were rapidly approaching flash-flood conditions.
Add thunder and ominous dark noises -- something was still very, very upset, and very, very powerful.
Robin was panting, huffing and puffing. If need be, I’d ditch the packs and carry her, but I really, really hoped we could get to more level ground before that happened!
We were about a third of the way up the cut when the lightning started. Robin let out a yelp and covered her ears at the first crash, slipping down part way again, not going all the way down.
Holding her, helping her, trying to keep both of us up and moving through the downpour, a cold malevolent wind whipping rain around us. The air filled with doom. Robin slipped, falling again. As she fell, I lunged forward for a tree branch to hold us both up, but missed by a fraction of a fingernail, going down partially on top of her. I put my hand down to try and break my fall. It was like something grabbed us and pulled us back down the slope, eight, ten feet, through mud and rock. I tried to stop us, to move forward. Robin shrieked.
But I was still looking at that branch, reaching for it when the world lit up. Lightning struck, and vaporized the branch I’d been reaching for. Something hit my glasses, and shards hit the side of my face. If I’d managed to grab that branch... If I’d been holding it...
We were both pretty much covered in mud. Sitting there, I grabbed a bottle and rinsed Robin’s face and eyes. Did the right thing -- the bottle I grabbed was holy water. The crud practically leapt from her face! I splashed a little on mine; it stung, which confirmed my suspicions. “Here, hold out your hands,” I told her, splashing some on her hands, then on mine. The rain pelted us still, washing things away.
Yeah, I could see better, and I think Robin could as well.
We struggled back to our feet, passing the spot that had just been struck, still smoldering. Lightning crashed down, not as close. It was like being caught in a firefight again.
Somehow we made it to the top of the cut, to the edge of the mesa. I almost laughed, looking at her Jeep sitting on the flat expanse of rock -- Joe saved our asses, protecting it. The storm whipped at us and growled, but once we were inside the circle Joe had cast, we felt it ease up.
Robin leaned against her Jeep, crying, panting, wheezing.
“We’re safe,” I told her, my heart pounding. “We made it. Here...” I took our packs off, brushing off crud, and took off the outside layer of our clothing, coated with mud. I spread a plastic drop over the back seat of the Jeep and put in our packs and clothing. I spread blankets over the front seats and put Robin in the passenger seat. “Look at me!” I told her, and rinsed her face with holy water again. “Rinse your mouth, and swallow it,” I told her. She did. I closed the passenger door.
Went around to the driver’s side, rinsed my face, and took a swig. Hope it helped! Got in and closed the door. Robin handed me the keys; I put them in the ignition but didn’t start the engine.
“We made it,” I told her, holding her hand. Her hand was cold, wet, dirty, and shaking. Mine was the same.
We had a creepy feeling again, and the Jeep was rocked by rain and moaning wind. Lightning crashed down in the cut where we’d been, where it was hopefully still trapped.
More lightning -- was it afterglow from the lightning strikes, or was there another weird glow from down there? Robin whimpered and I held her, pulling her head to my shoulder, closing my eyes. Some things we’re not meant to see, we’re better off not seeing.
Another series of crashes, and things changed; we could feel it. The feelings of malice and doom were gone. The wind and storm seemed to lighten up.
We sat back. “Damn,” I said to nobody in particular.
“We almost were,” Robin whispered.
Yeah, things were clearing. We were still a mess, and the stuff in the back seat was a mess.
I was looking over my shoulder at the stuff in the back when Robin screamed and grabbed me!
I pulled my gun, turning. Descending from the sky towards us was a bulky winged shape with glowing eyes -- and antlers!
“It’s Joe,” I told her, holding her.
He landed on the hood. I still don’t know where the wings go when he’s not using them.
“Hey! Stand out in the rain -- it will do you good!” he called to me.
I shook Robin a little. “Let’s get out. The rain will help clean us up.”
“Uh, okay,” she managed to mumble.
The rain was warmer now, and it felt good. We got the stuff from the back seat and cleaned it in the rain best we could.
“I can drive,” Robin told me, her voice stronger.
“Where’s Sophira?” I asked Joe.
He yorped in laughter, which startled Robin.
“She and her buddies took off; said something about visiting Salt Lake City. She told me to thank you -- they haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” He yorped and yodeled some more.
“That was fun?” Robin asked, stepping close to me again.
I gave her a quick hug. “Guess so. Let’s go clean up?”
“Oh yeah!”
The drive out wasn’t bad. Not surprisingly, the storm was localized. The hard road was still dry.
Robin parked her rig in the barn. We unloaded things and cleaned up. She thanked me for spreading the drop and the blankets.
“I need a shower,” she announced, and put a hand on my shoulder. “With you.”
I grabbed my kit; I had some suspicions still. “Sounds like a deal.”
“I’ll stay out here,” Joe muttered.
We pretty much stripped on her back porch. “Let’s get this stuff in the washer, pronto,” she suggested. We emptied pockets and such, did a bit more rinsing on the porch, and dumped the clothes into her washer.
She touched the side of my face. “You’ve got some cuts. Let’s get into better light.”
“We both do,” I told her. “Bathroom and shower? I need hot water!”
In the bathroom as she started the shower, I got out my little sprayer. “I want to check you over, first,” I told her.
She smiled, almost laughing. “I thought you’d never ask...”
I shook my head. Some scratches on her face, sprayed those. “Does that sting?” I asked.
“Yes, but then it feels warm,” she confirmed.
Oho -- two marks on her right breast, above her nipple. That’s where Sophira had been busy...
“This may sting a lot,” I told her, and then sprayed.
She jumped! “Ouch! That hurts!”
I nodded. “Hold still -- a little more will turn it around.” I sprayed the area more, including the nipple, and her other breast.
“Oh, that’s a lot better,” she said, her voice turning sultry, and her nipples perking up.
Oh well, the holy water did its job, and the side effects of the fairy dust were kicking in...
She checked me, both of us barely remaining clinical. She sprayed some scratches on my face, hands, and neck. They stung initially, then warmed up. Call it magic, enchantment, or just plain nastiness -- the stinging told me the wounds we’d gotten were inflicted by more than just the weather.
We definitely warmed up in the shower! We dried off quickly, eager to move to the bedroom. Hands wandering, kissing, feeling...
“Robin,” I said, reaching for my sprayer, “I want to be sure and get every place Sophira touched you. It’s important.”
She grabbed me by my handle. “Whatever you say...”
I got her on her back on the bed, legs over the edge, spreading her legs. I ran my hand over her mound; she moaned and presented for me. I spread her nether lips a bit and gave her a good spray.
She shrieked! I got her with two more spritzes as she tried to move away.
Her shrieking turned quickly to more friendly noises. I put one hand on her mound as I caressed her gently.
“Oh, I need you...” she moaned. “Please!”
What I do to be thorough... I sprayed my cock, top and bottom. Oh yeah... I moved closer and slid into her. She moaned and shuddered. I moved around, just being thorough...
On my elbows, settling in on top of her... “Exhale and breathe in through your nose,” I told her.
She nodded, looking somewhat spaced out, and did it. I gave her one good spritz up each nostril.
I took a toot myself and managed to put the sprayer on the nightstand...
She was warm, animated, and glorious. We were both loud. We curled up together and went to sleep holding each other.
“Bob!” Robin whispered, partially waking me. “What’s that sound? Hear it?”
I listened, half asleep, pulling her closer. She was warm, and soft. “La gazza ladra, Thieving Magpie, by Rossini,” I told her, and kissed her on the head.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s Joe. Listen, he’s in rare form...” It’s surprising how he can switch between soprano and tenor parts. Guess I’ve increased his repertorie. “Something tells me you’re going to have a population explosion of jacks...”
She snuggled. “Glad we weren’t the only ones making noise... More like him?”
“Nah, just plain jacks. It takes special circumstances to get jackalopes.” I kissed her on the head again. “You know, you did really well through all this.”
She shuddered and held me tighter. “No, I didn’t,” she whispered. “And I hope I never experience anything like it ever again.”
Oh well, guess I’m not getting a colleague... “Not mentioning details is probably best.”
She sighed. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I’m glad it’s over.”
I held her and kissed her head once more. I hope it’s over, too. Hard to tell with some of these things. She settled in, and we went back to sleep.
Sort of waking in the morning, snuggling close.
She rolled away, muttering, and got out of bed.
I sat up on my side, rubbing my face. Yeah, we’d gone at it pretty wild... I sighed -- you could even say possessed... More side-effects of our incident? Most likely.
Robin was ... cautious but friendly. We cleaned up in the bathroom; she gave me a set of blue scrubs to wear and went to load our clothes in the dryer.
I offered to cook breakfast. She agreed to that, and picked up a portable phone to figure out how to get me home. She had a pretty full day.
Okay, that’s how things are going to go. I found eggs, bacon, frozen juice. Had an idea -- she was on the phone, in other parts of the house. I grabbed a half-full bottle from my pack on the back porch, and some other things. Mixed the juice using holy water, and emptied my little sprayer into it as well. Poured glasses of juice for both of us and took her some. She nodded and smiled, talking on the phone.
Started cooking eggs and bacon.
“Hey! Let me in!” Joe called, banging on the screen door.
I let him in. He hopped up on the kitchen table, eyeing the eggs and bacon.
“I’ll fix you some,” I told him. “How’d you make out last night? You sounded pretty good,” I asked him.
He yorped in delight, sitting up and throwing his head back. Then in a perfect imitation of my voice, he asked, “How’d you make out last night? You sounded pretty good.”
I chuckled. “I guess we did... Quite a deal, Joe, that was quite a deal.”
Went back to my cooking.
“Git!” Robin yelled. “Git out of my... Oh, good morning, Joe,” she calmed down once she recognized him.
“Good morning to you too!” he replied. “It’s good to see the sun come up again!” He yorped in delight.
“Did I really hear you last night?” she asked.
I turned to Joe and gave him a nasty look, pointing at him with the spatula.
He gave a short yorp, then threw his head back and sang. Beethoven, this time, part of the Chorale from the 9th. Amazing how he can produce the low notes.
Robin applauded the performance, which only made him worse. I fixed him a small plate with some scrambled eggs and bacon. Robin asked for more juice, which I took as a good sign.
She got a call as we were eating. One of the hands from the ranch would be by and give me (us) a ride back home, about a four hour drive. She assured whoever it was that the problem had been taken care of. She covered the handset and whispered to me, “Any problems going back out there?” I shook my head. “No.” She told them the area was okay to visit. They chatted a bit more and she hung up.
“How do I bill an exorcism?” she asked me, shaking her head.
“I haven’t figured that one out, either,” I told her. “Another house call, extended?”
We finished breakfast and I was clearing the dishes when my cell phone chirped.
Robin told me, “I’ll get those.”
I picked up my phone -- Johnny! “Hey Johnny! We’re still alive!” I greeted him.
“Yah, you made it, mostly cuz Sophoria called in big guns.”
“Joe says they had fun.”
“Heh. Some fun! I talked to her -- dat wuz one bad fuck dey took down. But you guys all right? No problems?”
“Not that I know of, Johnny. We washed off good...” I moved out onto the back porch, “with holy water and fairy dust. That helped.”
“Yah, good idea. No nightmares, dat kinda shit?”
“No, at least not yet. We rinsed pretty good, and drank some. I’m feeding more to Robin just in case.”
“Yah, good.”
“Other than leaving some silver, I think we made out okay.”
“Dats good. You tell dat Joe protect her!”
“I’ll do that, Johnny -- he did a dance around her car before we went in last night.”
“Dat Joe a smart one some times -- but don’t you tell him I said so!”
I had to laugh at that. “I won’t, Johnny -- and thanks for worrying about us.”
“Hey, Doc, you help us an we help you. We talk later -- glad you saw da sun come up!”
“Me too, Johnny, me too!”
I hung up and went back in the house. “You protect her and this place yet?” I thought to Joe. He was sitting on a chair.
“Last night while you were making all the noise,” he grumbled back to me.
“Good, Joe -- thanks.”
I dried dishes. We sorted clothes, packs, and such. I told her to keep the silver ammo for her 9mm -- put it in a separate clip and keep in handy. She shook her head and said she would.
My ride showed up. Joe went back into his carrier with a grumble, and had me put the cloth shade up in the front.
Robin and I parted with a somewhat tense hug. I told her to let me know if anything weird happened. She said she would.
The ride was not too long, and silent. I pointed out a café near home and told him it was a good place to get dinner -- better carnitas than in Texas, and fresh corn tortillas every day.
Damn it was good to see home. I seldom got to be a passenger, to look around on the drive in. I like this country. I like the hills, and the scrub. And I like my little ranch house, and the barns, the “new” barn with my office, and the “old” barn where the interesting things went on.
Cleaned up, repacked, restocked in both barns. Needed more holy water. Always need more fairy dust. Need to have more ammo made. A local gunsmith did the work for me; all I needed was the silver.
Walking back to the house at dusk; going to be another beautiful night. “Wonder if we have any leftovers for dinner, or maybe I’ll drive over to Rosa’s,” I muttered to Joe.
Puttering in the house, Maria had triaged the mail and rescheduled appointments. Nothing major, but I don’t like rescheduling on people. “We can sleep in,” I told Joe. “Nothing before noon!”
I was about to head into the kitchen when I heard the chime that told me someone was coming down my driveway.
“Nasty words,” I muttered under my breath, heading to the front porch and turning on the lights.
A fairly new looking Lincoln Navigator pulled up in front of the house. A woman got out, and opened the door behind her. She got something and walked up to the porch.
As she stepped into the light of the porch, I could see... She was very pretty, and carrying a rabbit? Looked like a large lop. Just what I needed -- another sick bunny. You see a lot of lops with dental problems from inbreeding (just like the so-called nobility in some countries).
But as she approached, she put it down.
“What can I do for you?” I asked as she walked on to my porch.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, opening her arms.
I took half a step back before she touched me and I fell into her glowing eyes.
Her touch, her scent, her lips -- I soon became more enthusiastic. How could I not? She was a succubus, sent by Sophoria and her friends to thank me. She thanked me -- many times, more times and in more ways than I could imagine. Her skin, her breasts, riding against her bottom, her riding on top of me, teasing me with her breasts, tantalizing me with her hands. I’d think I was done for the night, snuggling in, and after a few minutes she’d breathe in my ear, run her hands over me, and I was ready to go again ... no, I needed her again.
I woke up alone, sunlight filling the room, memories of going to sleep being held to a full breast. I felt well rested and tired at the same time. Hey, not even ten in the morning!
I got up and made my way to the loo. a little wobbly. Got dressed and walked to the kitchen -- I was starving!
“Oh my...” There sitting on my old kitchen table was a lump of silver. Looked like local stuff, impurities in it. I got some corn tortillas from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave to heat. A sin, I know, but one of many...
Walking into the living room, I started laughing. Joe likes a particular footstool to sleep and rest on. My housekeeper doesn’t particularly like him there, but they’ve learned to put up with each other; I inherited both with the house and the practice.
And there on the footstool was Joe, flaked out. Didn’t even lift his head as I approached.
“Did you have as wild a night as I did?” I asked him.
He managed a twitch.
I got the fairy dust sprayer out of my kit in the bathroom. Took a toot myself. That helped! Gave some to Joe. After about twenty seconds, he gave a shake, and managed to sit up.
The microwave beeped from the kitchen. I picked him up. “I’ll fix you a tortilla,” I told him. “We made it -- another sunrise!” I laughed and shook my head.
END of Part 2
Rev 2007/04/21
Open Clinic 2 -- House Calls
By silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www