Blind Rage - Chapter 7

Sunday July 20, 1997, 7:30 am

Boerne, Texas

Rosa Delgado woke up to an odd sound. She lay in bed, her mouth tugging in a thoughtful pout while she tried to identify the noise.

She gave up, patting her hand over the nightstand to find her folding cane. Her hand closed around the bundle of interlinked fiberglass tubes and she rolled out of bed.

Her sandals were right where she’d left them, at the foot of the bed. She didn’t need the cane to find her way into her walk-in closet. She set it on the upper shelf and searched the row of hung clothing to take down a pair of jeans

She pulled them on, grabbing a hooded sweatshirt from the upper shelf to tug it on. The garment was warm for the day, but Rosa always kept as much skin covered as possible. She resisted the urge to push up her sleeves, reaching for her cane again before she stepped back into her sandals.

The sound eluded identification while she dressed herself, but she thought it might be one of the older trees groaning.

It had happened before. Rosa smiled at the old memory. Months after her eyes had been cut out, an older tree had split in a storm, and the following day, the swaying of one of the main branches made such a dreadful sound. It was almost like a human moaning in misery.

Living alone with no clue of what was outside, Rosa called the sheriff to complain about a wounded animal near her house. The tree branch was dealt with, and the local cops had ribbed her ever since then.

She didn’t mind. Every few days, one of the deputies from the sheriff’s office drove out to her house to ask if she had any more wounded animals that had to be uprooted.

Rosa took the jokes because she could invite the deputies to stay for a glass of iced tea, and then she wasn’t alone, at least for a little while.

Beside the front door was a buffet table, and atop the buffet was a pair of dark, round-framed sunglasses. There was no point to wearing them, except that under direct sunlight they made the world black instead of red. Mostly, she put on the glasses in case company came to visit.

Opening the front door, Rosa unfolded the cane and stepped off the first step slowly. The first step was steeper, and despite being blind for years, she’d often forgotten herself and stepped down too fast. When she did, she usually ended up on the ground, and more often than not with a new goose egg on her forehead.

Stepping up too fast wasn’t much better, since she would trip and slap her face into the door. On her less bitter days, Rosa could admit that the front steps had great comedic potential.

She made it down the steps without incident, and she started to swing the cane in front of herself while she walked around the side of the house.

To her right, she could hear the sound of water lapping against the shore. The lakeside property had been so beautiful to her as a child, and in her dreams, she could still recall what the view was like. Now it was just a sound that she used to orient herself.

The water slapping the pebbly shoreline was a sound that made her nervous if it became too loud. The lake was no longer a placid landmark. It was a threat to Rosa, and if she stumbled into the lake, she could get lost and thrash herself into a panic until she drowned.

The buzzing noise seemed to be coming from near the water. Rosa frowned, the cane stilling in her grasp while she tried to decide what to do.

She could go back inside and call the sheriff. But of course, if she did, one of the guys would come out, find a tree limb hanging in the water, and Rosa would be teased again.

Which had a certain appeal to it, depending on which deputy she could get to come down for a visit. Maybe she might get lucky and find George on duty? He always told the best jokes about his ex-wife, and he stayed the longest during his visits.

For as pleasant as the idea sounded, she decided to venture closer.

Rosa swept the cane in front of her, hesitantly moving closer to the sound. Her hand was clammy around the rubber grip because she was right by the shoreline.

How long ago had it been that she’d fallen into the lake? Three years? Four? It was hard to keep track of time, and she’d been alone for so long after her parents were killed.

Don’t. The stern command came from a voice that was different than her own. It was a voice she had lived with since her early teens, but it had become stronger after she’d been blinded. Her parents had always told her the voice made her “special,” but Rosa knew it just meant she was crazy.

The voice was always full of rage, but when it spoke, it did so to protect her.

And now the voice was ordering her, Just don’t go there, Rosa.

The angry voice forced her thoughts back into the present, as it always did. The angry voice acted as the guardian of her worst memories, the gatekeeper that kept her conscious thoughts away from the final hours before her sight had been stolen.

She never made an intentional search for the memories, but even a nostalgic thought about her parents brought the warnings.

Rosa heeded the voice every time, because she didn’t want to remember.

She was getting close to the fishing pier. By then, the buzzing didn’t sound like a tree swaying under the light breeze. It sounded like something snoring. Or...or perhaps it was someone. She’d had to run early morning fishers from off of her property before, and some of her neighbors were heavy snorers.

“You can’t fish here,” Rosa said.

The snoring continued. Rosa stopped walking when the cane tapped the first wooden plank of the pier.

This was the forbidden zone. This was the place she couldn’t go, and hadn’t gone, not since she’d almost drowned by falling over the side.

Rosa swayed, her breath speeding to a quiet pant while she debated with herself.

The angry voice said, It’s all your property. Why should you be afraid of it?

The challenge didn’t help to slow down her breathing, nor could it dry her slick palms. But it was just enough to get her moving again.

One step, two steps. A new scent on the wind, almost human, but dirty, and foul with sweat and some other unpleasant odor.

It wasn’t a fisherman, unless he was using some new stink bait.

Go on, the voice commanded. Find whatever is making that noise and kill them.

The tone of the voice was changing, becoming more shrill and panicked.

The emotion pounding her heart wasn’t fear. Rage gripped her mind and body and set her forward at a faster pace. Two, three, four steps; and now the sound of snoring was joined with the hiss of exhalation. Yes, something, or someone was sleeping on the pier, and they were big, judging by how loudly they snored.

Five, six; the snoring stopped, and Rosa froze, her face tightening with apprehension.

The angry voice shouted, Don’t stop! It’s an animal, and it can sense fear. You can’t be afraid of it if you want to kill it.

Rosa shook her head. But I don’t.

Yes, you do, the angry voice insisted. This animal is evil, and you have to kill it before it infects you.

Infects? The word washed fear across her body, as solid as the waves patting the shore. Her throat felt too dry as she squeaked, “Is someone there?”

The wood pier groaned under the weight of something huge moving fast. Thumping footsteps bore down on Rosa, and the pier swayed under her feet. She raised her hand awkwardly, trying to steady herself.

Something grabbed her arm in a vice, and Rosa screamed, trying to pull back. Jagged blades dug into her forearm, and the grip tightened before Rosa was yanked off of her feet. She lost her grip on the cane while her free hand flailed for something to hold onto. Then, all at once, she was released, and she was flying through the air.

Rosa clawed in front of herself in a panic, trying to keep her hands out to absorb the shock of her landing.

She hit the water, and she had to suppress the urge to start thrashing once her head was under the surface. Going limp, she let her body float to the surface, and she raised her head to gasp for air.

But once she could breathe, nothing the angry voice said could stop her from screaming. Then the panic took over her limbs, and she started to thrash in search of something, anything to orient her back toward land.

Bitch, don’t you dare start crying.

The angry voice couldn’t stop her from sobbing, because she was too far out. There was no land under her feet, and no way to tell where the shore was. She was going to drown, and this time, there wouldn’t be a neighbor arriving in time to save her.

The animal hit the water, and then the surface around Rosa became alive with deep ripples. She heard the animal splashing closer, and she tried to swim away from it.

A hand closed over her leg, and she was pulled behind the creature. She fought with it until her knee scraped pebbles on the rising lakebed.

The animal was pulling her onto the shoreline

Rosa went limp, her screams dropping to a whimpering pant. What do I do?

The angry voice said, Do nothing, you stupid bitch. You’re already infected. If this thing is going to eat you, it would be doing us a favor.

The hand around her leg covered her whole calf. It wasn’t possible, unless the man dragging her was close to nine feet tall.

The hand released her, and Rosa sat up, propping herself on one hand while she held her other hand out unsteadily. When her pounding heart slowed and she stopped gasping for air, she heard the creature breathing. It was nearby, and it was watching her. Rosa turned her head, pushing her hand out further.

She whispered, “Hello?”

Something growled, and Rosa froze.

But it wasn’t an animal sound, not quite. There were pauses between the grunts and growls, and it sounded like the animal was trying to talk to her.

She got onto her knees, trying to move closer to the sound.

The growling stopped, and the creature held its breath. The recent trip through the lake had rinsed away the funk on its body, and she had no idea if she was heading into a trap or if the animal was scared of her.

She set her hand down on bumpy, scarred flesh, and then the animal growled with a menacing tone. Rosa drew her hand back. She dropped into a sitting position while she listened to the creature breathing.

A massive finger touched her face, pushing at her mangled eye sockets. Her glasses were gone, probably somewhere on the bottom of the lake.

The finger stopped pushing, and Rosa wasn’t sure why, but she felt a need to explain herself.

She pouted, raising a hand to gesture at her face. “I was attacked...my parents took me out to celebrate my birthday.”

Dropping her head, Rosa’s voice came out deeper when she spoke again. She’d let the angry voice take over. “The men were drugged, I think. Maybe it was speed, or crack, but they were messed up. They forced me to watch them kill both my mom and my dad, and then they cut out my eyes and...and they used me.”

Silence followed for many long minutes before the creature growled and got up. She heard its footsteps thundering along the shoreline until they faded and left her listening to her thumping heart.

***

Sunday, 10:27 am

Entering the front area of the Kendall County Sheriff’s office behind Gavin and the berserker, George was greeted by a chorus of grunts and growls from his coworkers.

He raised both hands as he laughed. Stepping between Gavin and the berserker, he hung his head to acknowledge that he had a certain amount of teasing coming.

Behind the counter, John Carson, the dispatcher, beamed a wide grin. His thick bronze tanned arms were folded across his barrel chest, and his shoulders shook in a quiet laugh.

“Mornin’, John,” George said, unable to look up.

“Mornin’ George. Did you find Bigfoot yet?”

Grinning sheepishly, George stopped at the counter. “I thought I did, but it was just your wife.”

Standing just across the counter from the dispatcher, the disparity between their heights was even more obvious. At five foot eleven, John was much closer to Gavin’s height, though he still had four inches over the agent.

Jobe and George both stood over the sheriff’s dispatcher, though John had a much thicker frame than all three men.

The first mental impression that people got when seeing John was that of a brick wall. His body was thick, but not round with fat. His was a hard, lean frame with no curves at his waist. If not for his shoulders sticking out, he seemed to have the same flat shape from his chest all the way down to his hips.

Snickering at George’s cheap comeback, John shook his head. “Nah, can’t be. I helped shave my wife last night. You must have seen your ex.”

“No, the fangs were too short,” George said.

John laughed, and George thought, I wish I was kidding.

Whether the thought was over the fang size of the orc or his ex-wife, he wasn’t sure.

He propped his forearm on the counter and gestured back with his other hand. “This is Agent Lebowitz. He’s with the FBI, and this puffy red guy is his consultant, Jobe McKenzie.”

John looked at Jobe with sudden interest. “You mean the serial bomber?”

Smirking, the berserker said, “Nah, that’s the other Jobe. I just break shit.”

Gavin leaned on the counter, hoping to derail the tangent. “We’re coming in to see if anyone has reported any other wild animal attacks. We’re looking for stripped cattle, or maybe—”

John nodded, “Yeah, we’ve got a report of a stray calf picked clean.” John’s smile and his mirthful expression faded before he asked, “All jokes aside, what is it?”

Gavin shook his head. “I wish I knew, but it doesn’t matter. We have to track it down before it kills another cow, or worse, another elderly couple.”

John nodded. “I hear that. Do you just want the most recent report?”

Gavin shook his head. “No, I’ll need to see the report from the other slain cow. I might be pressing my luck, but is there a coroner’s report on the elderly couple yet?”

“Yeah, Mike turned it in yesterday.” John stood up and waved an invitation for the trio to move around the counter. “I’ll go look up those reports and ask the sheriff to visit with y’all for a spell. So, why don’t you make yourselves at—?”

He looked down as the phone rang, and he stepped back to the counter to pick it up. “Kendall County Sheriff’s Office, this is John. How can I help you?”

“Hi John, this is Rosa Delgado.”

Laughing, John said, “Hey, Rosa. You got another wild tree that we need to tame?”

“Um, no. I’m at the hospital, and I wanted to know if someone can give me a ride home. The doctors are being pricks, and they won’t let me call a cab. They said they won’t release me until someone can drive me home.”

John frowned. “Why are you at the hospital?”

George stiffened at the question, as did the two deputies sitting at the pair of desks behind the counter. Suddenly, everyone was tense, and they hung on John’s every word.

“Something big attacked me on my property,” Rosa said. “I don’t know what it was, but I’m feeling all kinds of confused right now. Whatever it was, it tore up my arm, and it threw me in the lake. But then it pulled me out to keep me from drowning. I’m not sure, but I think it tried to talk to me, and I don’t think it was human.”

“Uh...all right.” John glanced down, his hand frozen over his memo pad. “What happened after that?”

“Whatever the creature was, it ran off. It was big, but it ran on two feet.”

John couldn’t speak. He raised his head, his gaze moving from George to Gavin. “Rosa, I’m going to pass the phone to an FBI agent who’s here in the office. Why don’t you tell him what you just told me?”

***

Sunday, 11:04 am

The berserker smirked bitterly, staring down at the floor while he thought, It is a small hospital. Of course we’d run into the same nurse.

The nurse who had led Gavin and Jobe into George’s room was also escorting them to Rosa’s room, but she was far more worried and anxious about getting in the elevator with the three men. Once the doors closed, she backed herself into the corner, waiting for something bad to happen.

But with George and Gavin being in close proximity to each other for a few hours, they no longer got as excited to be in the presence of another werekin.

As for the berserker, he was riding a pleasant high from a triple-dose of Thorazine. Knowing that he could burn through the medication faster in a rage, he decided that it was better to deal with the cotton-packed feeling in his head than to lash out and strike someone without thinking.

The dosage wasn’t quite enough to dull his speech, but he was truly incapable of being angry. Nothing could reach him through the medication, not even being in the vicinity of three people bearing a werekin curse.

The bottle of pills was in his pocket, just in case.

 The berserker turned to smile at the nurse. “It’s okay. We’re all medicated this time, and I’ve got Milk-Bones in my other pocket, just in case.”

The nurse offered him a thin smile, but she didn’t relax. “I’ll just stay back here, to be sure.”

George laughed and offered the nurse a grin. “Oh relax, Tina. If either of these losers bugs you, just let me know. I’ll toss them out a window for you.”

The nurse relaxed and stepped away from the wall as she made a nervous laugh. “Sorry, but you both scared me yesterday.”

“We were just having a bad day,” Gavin said. “Jobe’s got medication that he has to take, and we didn’t know it wore off. I...I was just having allergies.”

The nurse laughed. “Right, that’s a good one.”

“I did,” Gavin said, pointing to Jobe. “I have an allergic reaction to assholes.”

The nurse laughed and Gavin waited until she stopped. He pointed at George with one hand and the berserker with the other, crossing his arms. “And yesterday, I had to put up with a double dose.”

The nurse laughed harder, covering her mouth when George faked an irritated expression and mumbled, “Oh fine, encourage him.”

They made small talk on the walk to the room, and the nurse was much more relaxed as she left.

Gavin opened the door first, and his smile fell when he spotted the woman sitting on the examination table. At some point in the past, she might have been pretty. But the web of scars around her empty eye sockets made her hard to look at.

Harder still was the web of scars running down her bared arms and legs. The hospital gown stopped at her mid-thigh, but he doubted that her ruddy reddish-brown skin was any less scarred under the blue garment.

Gavin froze, and George stepped around the agent, lowering his voice as he asked, “Rosa, what happened to your glasses?”

“George?” Rosa asked. Her empty sockets rounded in a look of relief, and her reddish-brown skin began to lighten quickly. The color didn’t just drain from her face, but from all of her body, and as the color left, the rigid tension in her muscles also faded.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve got some new friends with me.” George patted Rosa’s upper arm once he stepped closer. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know now. I’m starting to feel hot, and I’m having trouble breathing. I was fine until just a couple minutes ago.”

“Yeah, that’ll pass in an hour or so,” George said. His frown grew as he looked around the room. “Sweetie, where are your glasses?”

“I lost them in the lake. I got tossed in, and then dragged out by this...thing.” Shaking her head she tugged at the front of the blue hospital gown. “I could care less about my glasses. I just want my clothes back. The doctor left me here in these stupid baggy pajamas, and they won’t let me have back my clothes.”

Rosa pouted, dropping her head. “They keep trying to bandage my eyes, and I’m just about ready to take someone’s head off. Damned holes are five years old now, so it’s not like a I need a band-aid for them, right?”

“Yeah,” George said, tugging a pair of sunglasses from the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. “Here, you can use mine for now.” He set the glasses in her palm when she held out her hand.

“Thanks.” Rosa slipped on the glasses, turning her head left toward the door. “Well, don’t stand there gawking. Come in and introduce yourselves.”

Gavin cleared his throat and walked inside. “Ma’am, I’m Agent Gavin Lebowitz, and this is Jobe McKenzie.”

“I remember talking to you on the phone.” Rosa smiled. “You must think my story is pretty crazy.”

“No, it’s not nearly as crazy as you think,” Gavin said.

Stepping back toward the door, George said, “I’ll go find your clothes, and while I’m getting you checked out, Gavin is going to explain what happened to you.”

George left, not wanting to deal with what was likely to be an awkward conversation.

He felt bad for Rosa in a way that he couldn’t feel pity for himself, even if they were in the same situation. Life had already been so cruel to the poor woman, and yet, adding to her other problems, now she was cursed to become a monster.

George talked to the doctors and explained that he would drive Rosa back home. With his assurances that she wouldn’t be left alone for the night, the doctors returned her clothing in a brown paper bag.

The bag, like the clothing, was wet. Rosa’s day was not going to be getting better.

As he returned to the room, George heard what he thought was sobbing. But when he opened the door, he saw that Rosa’s cries were gales of laughter.

She heard the door open and started trying to get herself under control, covering her mouth to muffle her voice.

George shut the door and asked, “What’s so gosh darned funny?”

“I’m going to be a bat!” Rosa laughed again, pausing when George didn’t. “Oh, come on, you know why.”

“No, I can’t say that I—oh, right.” George chuckled and set down the bag beside Rosa. “I’m glad you took that well.”

“Hey, I’ve had worse news before,” Rosa said. She giggled and added, “I sure hope I get that echo location ability, because if not, I’ll be a ding-bat.”

Cringing uncomfortably, George rustled the bag. “Here’s your clothes, and we’ll be outside, all right? Uh, they’re still wet, sweetie.”

Rosa sighed and nodded. “I didn’t expect them to provide laundering services.”

“We’ll get you home soon for some dry things.”

Gavin and the berserker followed George into the hall.

George shut the door and looked around at Gavin. His mouth rose in an admiring smile while he gestured at the door. “I shouldn’t be surprised that she took it well. Rosa’s tough.”

Gavin kept his voice soft as he asked, “What happened to her?”

“Rosa’s parents took her to Austin for her eighteenth birthday. They took her to Sixth Street, and somewhere along the way, a couple of drug addicts noticed Rosa. They followed the family, and then they forced them into a van. Rosa’s parents were both slashed to death with box cutters, and Rosa...they cut out her eyes before they raped her. Then they cut her up and left her for dead.”

George’s jaw tightened, and his brown eyes filled with a troubled light. “She lives alone now, so we drive out to visit with her every few days and make sure she’s okay. She has her groceries delivered, and I don’t think she’s set foot off of her parent’s land since she got home.”

Gavin asked, “She doesn’t have anyone to live with?”

George shook his head, and the troubled look in his eyes was suddenly mixed with pride. “She refused help. Just about every one of her relatives showed up at one point and tried to coddle her, and she sent them all packing.”

He might have explained more, but he glanced at the door and stepped back. Already, his senses were becoming more keen.

Rosa opened the door, raising her right hand out in front of herself. “George?”

Only then did the deputy step closer to offer his forearm. “You lost your cane too?”

Rosa smirked as she nodded. “I got tossed, George. You try holding onto something when you’re flying through the air and not sure of where your landing will be.”

George let her ramble as they walked outside to the vehicles. George refused to endure the back bench of the Mustang again, and he’d taken his truck from the back lot of the sheriff’s office. His grey extended-cab truck was much more comfortable, and he could stretch out to drive instead of sitting hunched over with his kneecaps in his arm pits.

He was surprised when Jobe chose to get into the back seat on the passenger side behind Rosa, leaving Gavin to drive the Mustang by himself.

George shut the door and walked around the front of the truck.

When he closed the driver’s side door, Rosa turned in her seat. “Who else is riding with us?”

“Me.” The berserker paused, uncertain of what to call himself. He settled on saying, “Jobe.”

Rosa giggled. “Me, Rosa. You come from jungle, Jobe?”

“No, I come from Arizona. There, we talk funny, all of us.” The berserker sat back in his seat, trying to smile in spite of his troubled thoughts. “Rosa, I didn’t have time to explain myself before, but I can read thoughts. I want you to understand that first, okay?”

Rosa’s smile softened, and she nodded. “Okay.”

“Because of this curse, I’ll need to keep watch over you. I wanted to suggest that you move in with us, but it’s occurred to me that your home is bigger, and it’s closer to the area that we’ll need to hunt in.”

Rosa’s smile returned, but there was a trace of bitterness in her expression. “That’s really very cruel, you know.”

Confused, George asked, “What is?”

“He just stripped me of my independence, but he told me that he can read my thoughts first to make sure I wouldn’t lie.” Rosa shook her head. “I can’t claim that I like living alone. He knows that I don’t, and he knows why I say that I do.” Sighing, she sat forward in her seat and dropped her hands in her lap. “It’s just you and Gavin moving in, right?”

“No. Until Erick returns with more collars, I need to keep all of you together.”

Rosa frowned, but she said nothing.

She didn’t like being alone, but she valued her independence. It was the one thing that the men hadn’t been able to take from her, and she didn’t want to give up without some kind of fight.

The berserker said, “I promise, I won’t coddle you. We’ll give you space, and I’ll try to stay out of your way. I know this is hard for you. It was hard for me to lose my independence too.”

“You don’t have a choice about this either, do you?”

“No. If it were my choice, you’d already be dead.”

George groaned, “Aw, jeez, Jobe. Sugar coat it, why don’cha?”

Rosa shook her head. “It’s okay, George. I understand what he means. If he wasn’t ordered to watch over us, then someone else would be hunting us down later to shoot us.”

The berserker sighed, feeling steadily more guilty. “You don’t understand. I’m cursed in my own way, and people like you drive me into a rage. The only reason I’m not going crazy right now is because I’m doped up on Thorazine.”

“But if you come down, you might kill us?”

The berserker shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I can keep one of you under control once you go furball, and now I’ve got to deal with three of you when two aren’t even tagged.”

“You could lock us in cells,” George suggested.

“Sure, and I’ll just whip up these cells from where?” the berserker asked.

“Well—you could...” George realized that his idea wasn’t so great. Reserving three isolation cells in the county jail would raise eyebrows, especially if they were made every lunar cycle. Then there would be the suspicious claw marks lining the walls the next morning.

Sighing, George said, “Okay, it was a dumb thought.”

The berserker snorted. “Don’t feel bad. Your idea was still light years ahead of my plan.”

“Which is?”

The berserker said, “When the moon is full, I’ll run a lot.”

Rosa’s voice was flippant as she asked, “So what qualifies you as the leader?”

“No one said I was the leader. If you want a leader, you’ll want to talk to Gary Wagner. That’s who I call boss, and he’s Gavin’s supervisor too. I’m just trying to do what I was told and keep this situation contained.” Jobe sighed. “I’m going to have to remind Gavin to file a report on all of this.”

George looked up in the rearview mirror. “Do we have a plan yet, or do you want to just keep collecting the orc’s victims?”

“I have a sort of plan.” Jobe turned sideways in his seat, leaning back to dig in his hip pocket for the pill bottle. “I think the orc could sense that you were kin once it had injured you. That’s why it didn’t pop your head, George. Rosa, I think it’s why he went into the water to pull you back to the shore. If that’s the case, then we need to get the three of you close enough to the orc to calm him down. We’ll...toss him some steaks or something, and see if we can lure him back to your property.”

The berserker sat back in his seat, and Rosa and George remained quiet to let him think out his plan. Neither had any better ideas, and what he suggested sounded better than what they had.

After several minutes, the berserker said, “I think maybe he’s developing a preference for cow, so feeding him should be easy. Even better, if he doesn’t kill anyone else, we might be able to contain him without someone calling for his execution.”

Rosa said, “I’m not shooting down your plan, but do you really think you can keep an orc hidden for long before word starts to get around?”

“We just need to hold out long enough for Erick to get back,” Jobe said. “After that, we’ll probably have to go somewhere isolated to keep all of you hidden.”

Rosa laughed and said, “Would that be the island of Dr. McKenzie?”