The Last of Her Kind Ch. 01

"We have plenty of tools. Our last handyman's widow gave them to the library when he passed away."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Gary was retired, but he liked to keep busy. I'm afraid the work on this place easily outpaced him, but he stuck with it until his heart attack." Louise smiled weakly. "His love of the Sunrise Special didn't help him any."

"I see." Darren shook his head. The idea of something lying in wait, like a heart attack or an aneurysm, used to terrify him. Now, however, he was more afraid of the ghosts that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. He was a full step outside of reality, and he was hoping that maybe, in due time, he could finally catch up with the rest of the human race, and maybe walk by their side once again. "That's too bad.."

"About your pay." Louise looked nervous. "It's supplemental at best. However, the city council has authorized us to offer a room as compensation. The church across the street from here has a living space in the back. Back when it was in service, the preacher and his family lived there. I'm afraid that the rate isn't negotiable."

"How much per week?" When Louise told him, Darren grimaced. It really was low, but it was more money than he had seen in a bit. Even if he stayed here for a few months and saved up, it would be plenty to live off of for when he moved on.

"Like I said, it isn't great. I'm afraid that we can't afford too much." She frowned. "The room is decent though, and the people here are kind. And you wouldn't be alone. Ms. Rae would be your neighbor."

"In the church?"

"Yes. When the church was built, it was originally planned that the living space was for a pair of men. The kitchen and living room are a common area, but the rooms were separated, and there are locks on them. The preacher we used to have had his kids stay in the other room, but they all left town after he stole the church's money."

"Will Ana be okay sharing space with me?"

"Well, she doesn't have much choice. Being honest, Ana's career choices are rather limited by her disability. She came to us a few years ago much like you did, straight off the bus. Walters found her down at the park, feeding the geese."

"He seems to have a penchant for strays."

Louise laughed. "You have no idea. Look, if you want the job, it's yours. It would be nice to have another face around here and, to be honest, it would do my heart good to know that someone else is in that stuffy old church with her. You want to stay on my good side, you help me take care of that girl." She stood. "Why don't you come with me and I can have Ana show you to your new place."

"Yes, ma'am." Darren picked up his bag and followed. when they walked back into the library, Ana was smiling at a young man who was telling her about his summer trip. She stamped several books that he had checked out, then handed them over. The guy said hello to Louise as he walked past, ignoring Darren completely.

"Ana? Darren here has decided to join the team."

"Congratulations." Ana smiled. It didn't quite seem to make it to her eyes.

"He will be taking the extra room in the church's living quarters." Darren saw the edges of Ana's smile wither slightly. He couldn't blame her; he wouldn't be excited about a new roommate either. Louise opened a locked drawer and pulled out a small set of keys. "I'll have Ana take you over so you can get acquainted. Tomorrow morning I will have a list ready for you."

"Let's go." Ana pushed the joystick on her chair, and her chair carried her out to the front lobby. Darren followed her outside and across the street to the old church. Wondering how she intended to get up the narrow concrete steps, he said nothing when she went past the building, turning onto an unseen cobblestone path that went to the side. It was like a long driveway, sloped gently to the back of the building. The door here was the only part of the building that looked remotely recent - it was a bit wider than a normal door, and he understood why once Ana produced a key and unlocked it. Her chair had just over an inch of clearance on each side, and she hummed to herself once she crossed the boundary.

Large boxes had been piled to the sides, labeled DONATIONS and stuffed with books. A simple kitchenette was just past the storage room, and they entered a large living room. The doors had been removed from most of them, the rooms full of more boxes labeled DECORATIONS or DONATIONS. The last two rooms had doors, and Ana opened one of them with a key.

"This would be your room," she said, pushing the door open. A stained mattress was in the corner. There wasn't any other furniture in the room, and the tiny window above the bed was covered in filth. Darren walked inside, turning slowly to take it all in. There was a small closet and a bathroom with a shower. "I'm afraid there isn't any hot water currently. There will be if you can get the water heater working again."

"I've slept in worse," he admitted, looking up at the ceiling. There were several cracks in the plaster. He set his bag down by the bed and looked out the window. Not only was it dirty, but a large bush grew on the other side.

"It'll do." He left the room, looking at the other door. "What's through there?"

"That's my room." Ana's eyes narrowed. "I must admit that I'm not very keen on having a man next door. If I ever find you in there, or you cause me any trouble, I won't hesitate to get you fired."

Darren nodded. "I don't blame you. I'm honestly just looking for a roof over my head, maybe get my head on straight. Um..." He rubbed the back of his head. "There's something you should know about me. Ever since the war, I have a lot of trouble sleeping."

"Like an insomniac?"

"No. I fall asleep. Staying asleep is the problem. It's just bad dreams. It doesn't happen very often, but when they do, they can get pretty bad."

"Dreams about the war?" she asked. She sounded curious.

Darren nodded. "If they get real bad, you can wake me up, but do it from a distance. Turn on the lights first so I can see you. My body wakes up faster than my brain does. I just wanted you to know, just in case."

"Sounds dreadful. I'm a pretty heavy sleeper, so I'm sure it'll be fine." She opened her mouth to say something else, then went silent. "I promise I'm not rude or anything. I'm just nervous. For now, if we could just keep it professional, that would be for the best."

"Yes, ma'am." Darren noticed a large set of double doors just around the corner from Ana's room. "Where do those go?"

"The rectory. That stays locked up - ever since a termite infestation some years back, there's so much wood rot that you could fall through to the basement. There simply hasn't been the money to get it fixed."

"But none here?" he asked, stomping his foot.

"Concrete beneath here. The termites didn't like the flavor of it, I guess." She took him outside to the narrow concrete stairs that went beneath the church. "We store a bunch of things down there, but I'm afraid it's been a while since anyone has been inside. Apparently, the bugs have taken over and it's a real mess."

"Bugs don't bother me. At least not the ones in the states. The insects in Nam were far scarier."

"That's good to hear. By the way, Gary's tools were all put down there. Also, the water heater is out. If you want a hot shower, you'll need to fix it."

"You don't? Want a hot shower, I mean."

"I sponge bathe." She patted herself on the leg. "These are zero good for standing, so I just heat up some water on the stove and wash off."

"I see." He felt bad bringing it up. He started down the stairs. "Guess there's no time like the present to check it out."

"Here. You'll need this." She tossed him a key. "I'll be back at the library if you have any questions. It closes at six. I guess I'll see you later." He could hear the sound of her tires on the loosely packed dirt fade into the distance.

"Yeah. I guess." Darren looked at the door to the basement. It had muddy handprints on it, likely Gary's. Holding the key in his fingers, he slid it into the lock just as thunder roared in the distance.

It was raining hard, the sudden downpour enough to cause a mist to rise from the hot asphalt. A small truck pulled up against the sidewalk, both men getting out and running to Matty's through the rain. The smell of freshly cooked meat and fries clung to them immediately, making Brother Cyrus' mouth water.

"Damn, that sounds good." Jeffrey gave the bottom of his coat a yank, casting droplets of rain all over the entrance. He pulled a comb out of his back pocket, giving his mullet a quick comb-through. "I'm getting Matty's Special. You should too."

"You know I don't eat meat," Cyrus reminded him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. Though he enjoyed the smell, just the thought of greasy beef bits being crushed beneath his tongue made him queasy. It was less the texture of the meat and more the idea that it had once been alive that bothered him. "I do, however, eat onion rings."

"A man of your talents unwilling to eat meat never ceases to amaze me." Jeffrey nodded politely at the older woman who welcomed them in. She led them to a booth near the back of the restaurant. A couple of locals were deep in lively conversation over some town gossip involving a new handyman. Cyrus made a mental note of it as they walked toward the table.

"Don't need a menu, hun. Matty's Special for me, and a salad and some onion rings for my friend." Jeffrey flashed the old waitress a smile. "And a couple of cold beers."

Cyrus watched the waitress disappear into the kitchen. "Seems friendly enough," he said, looking around the establishment. A couple of curious patrons watched them with interest, but not in a fearful way.

"You're just being polite." Jeffrey slapped the table with both hands repeatedly as the waitress returned with two bottles of beer. "Thanks, sweetheart! Keep 'em coming for me." Again, he flashed his winning smile. Their waitress— Hannah according to her nametag— smiled back. Cyrus took the beer from her and wondered if she would be so friendly if she knew that half of those teeth were fake, the result of a fistfight with a Bigfoot.

Cyrus sipped his drink, a sigh escaping his lips. He pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket, checking the name one more time.

"This is the right town." He flipped the notepad shut. "But it doesn't have the right feel."

"You mean a community on the edge, gripped by terror by dark things lurking in the woods?" Jeffrey slammed half the bottle, his head tilted far enough back that Cyrus could see the scars at the top of his chest. Three diagonal marks, a going away gift from a demon. "I bet it's in hiding."

"Of course it's in hiding." Cyrus dropped the volume of his voice. "Its kind is made for hiding."

"I'm sure we'll ferret it out, no worries." Jeffrey took the pad of paper from Cyrus. "Unless, of course, the Oracle lied about where it was hiding."

"The Oracle hasn't lied to us yet."

"The damn thing's a monster and I don't trust it. Those glowing red eyes and those fucking gross wings." Jeffrey shuddered. "I still say there's no way we should have been able to capture something that sees the future like that."

"A shining moment for the Order, and you know it." Cyrus had been part of the crew that had captured it. Once the sightings had been reported, the Order had been on the scene almost immediately. "Besides, how many things has the Oracle helped us track down in the last decade?"

Jeffrey coughed. "Yeah, well, maybe it hates its own kind more than it hates us. And I still don't like that you and the other Brothers gave it a title."

"Your objection is duly noted. I will put it in my report once we're done here."

"And you can take your report and shove it up your—hey, that looks great!" Hannah set a fresh burger right in front of him and a large salad in front of Cyrus. "Damn girl, that was fast!"

Cyrus rolled his eyes. Hannah hadn't been a girl since the fifties.

"Hey, I was wondering if you could help my friend and me." Jeffrey tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt. "We're just looking for someone who knows the area around town. We're fixin' to do a little camping while we're passing through."

"Hmm. I might know someone who can help." Hannah picked up Jeffrey's bottle and gave it a slight shake. "I'll grab you another beer. And I still have your onion rings, hun." She smiled at Cyrus, and he smiled weakly back.

"So we're camping this time." Cyrus shook his head. "You'd better hope this thing isn't lurking around town. They'll never buy our cover if we have to hunt it here."

"Then I suggest you start praying to the Lord that he blesses us this go-round." Jeffrey picked up his burger and took a large bite, hot sauce squirting out the back of the bun and splashing on the table. "Otherwise, we could be the ones who become the hunted."

Hannah quickly returned with a hot plate of onion rings, setting it down on the edge of the table by Cyrus, then set a beer over by Jeffrey before stopping at the next table to chat up a local.

Cyrus frowned at his salad. The last thing they needed was any complications. He ate a couple of onion rings and picked at his meal, tuning out Jeffrey's "food-as-good-as-sex" moans.

Jeffrey was already on his third meal when the bell over the front door rang. Cyrus used the reflection in the glass behind Jeffrey to see that a lawman had walked into the diner. Hannah met him at the door, pointing a finger in their direction.

"Jeffrey." Cyrus locked eyes with his partner.

"I see him, Brother Cyrus." The tone Jeffrey used now was all business, the facade of an overtly friendly traveler gone for just a moment. Cyrus fixed a grin on his face when the newcomer came up behind him.

"Evening, gentlemen." He pulled up a stool and sat at the edge of the table. He offered his hand, which they both shook. "Sheriff Walters, I'm in charge around here. Hannah says that you two were looking for someone who knew these parts. Been hunting and fishing here my whole life." He stuck a hand out and a mug of coffee was handed to him by Hannah. "You fellows have a map on you?"

"We do." Jeffrey pulled the small map they had bought at a gas station out of his coat pocket. "We're just doing a little camping and were hoping to get off-trail a bit. Maybe poke around where nobody goes."

"Uh-huh." The sheriff looked at Cyrus. "This one doesn't much look like the off-trail type."

"That's years of Catholic reform school for you. Before his parents sent him away, he was a regular boy scout. Once got treed by a bear. Slept up there through the night until it went away."

"A bear, huh?" Walters asked.

"It was a dog, actually. I was eleven." Cyrus threw Jeffrey a nasty look. "But yes, we are looking to get away from it all. My friend Jeffrey just inherited a sum of money from his father and we've been scouting for a place to buy some land, maybe build a house."

"Sounds like the two of you are pretty good friends." Sheriff Walters sipped at his coffee, his eyes on the two of them.

"We're more than friends. We grew up together and somehow poor Cyrus here ended up married to my little sister. They're about to start a family and all, and I thought it was a good time to maybe put down some new roots."

"I see. Well I'm sorry to hear about your dad."

"Don't be, man was a real bastard. Always took to the drink too hard, liked to push his kids around. In fact, the money he left me was a policy he purchased when he was shit-faced drunk, pardon my French. Forgot he even had it. The day he drove into a rock face at sixty-five was the best day of my life." Jeffrey finished his third beer, the silence at the table suddenly deafening.

"Which is why we are looking to move," Cyrus added. "Everyone deserves a fresh start."

"Yes, well, I can give you a few ideas. What did ya have in mind?"

"We really liked caving when we were kids. Anywhere we could get nice and deep under the earth. We also like hunting deer, anywhere with medium-sized game in large numbers. Or a marsh for birding." Jeffrey's eyes flicked to Cyrus.

"Like he said, off the beaten path. But nothing too dangerous. If there's anywhere where people go missing or anything like that, we want to avoid it."

Sheriff Walters laughed. "You don't have to worry about stuff like that here. We have our share of trouble out in the woods, but if anyone has ever gone missing, we never knew they were here." He pulled a pen out of his shirt and drew some circles on the map. "Here are some spots that may interest you. This area here has a couple of caves, but be careful. We get reports of bears every now and then up there. Also, there's a fishing hole right around here that's pretty good. My boy and I used to—" The sheriff went quiet. "Anyway, it would be good to have some young-uns at the old fishing hole again. I haven't been out there in quite a while." He finished his coffee and held the mug out for Hannah as she swung past, someone's meal in her other hand. "You boys just drop by the sheriff's station if you need anything. I pretty much live there these days." He stood up and shook both their hands before disappearing out the front door and into the rain.

"He seemed friendly," Jeffrey remarked, picking food out of his teeth with a toothpick.

"Too friendly for a man whose town is being terrorized by a man-eating creature," Cyrus muttered. He opened up his notepad again, staring at the words he had written. The Oracle had never lied before, but there was no sign of the beast they hunted here. Had the creature moved on? It wouldn't surprise him if it had. The Order had been tracking it for over a decade now with no luck at all. "Before we traipse out into the wilderness, I'm going to call the Keep and see if I can get someone to double check with the Oracle. I don't want to waste our time hunting it if it has moved on."

"Yes, well, you know me. I'm just a loaded pistol." Jeffrey made a gun with his fingers and pointed them at Cyrus. "Just point me in the right direction and shoot me."

Cyrus shook his head. Jeffrey was annoying to travel with, but he couldn't think of any other Knight of the Order he would ever be safer with.

Her chair hissed beneath her, the wheels squeaking whenever she turned left. She sighed, making a mental note to fix it tonight. It wouldn't be an issue to dismantle the chair and apply a little oil to it.

Wait, yes it would. She had already forgotten that she was now sharing her living space with Darren. She tensed her jaw in anger, then quickly relaxed. She couldn't let anyone know how much it bothered her, the idea of losing her privacy. She had happened across this life quite by accident, and she would be perfectly happy to continue living it.

She slid a book about birds into its proper home, then readjusted the metal bookends on the shelf so that the books would quit tipping over. She tilted the control stick of her chair, grimacing once more when she heard that damn wheel squeak. Navigating the paper labyrinth around her, she had become lost in her own thoughts.

How many years had it been since she had struck out on her own? She had been little more than a child, on the run from the people who were hunting her. Memories of the nest came flooding in, and she chased them away, scowling at the books in her hand.

She wasn't upset at Darren. She was upset that she may end up on the run again. Her life here was quiet, and there was plenty to eat without letting on that she was hunting. The people of this town had nothing to fear from her, and she had nothing to fear from them.

As long as her secret was kept. Therein lie the problem. Extra precautions would now have to be taken, and a new level of discipline was required. She had become accustomed to her routine, and Darren threatened to shake things up.