Chapter 51

He had been shot in the back, a pool of blood congealing beneath him. There was no need to check for a pulse; Taylor Pipes was clearly gone. He was a good officer, not deserving of this end.

I stepped over his body and surveyed the room. There were doors on either side, both slightly ajar. The walls were painted with various creepy-looking characters, rendered comical in the light from the overhead bulbs. Ahead of me was the ogre's head, in reverse, which served as the entrance to the fun house. Running from the back of his mouth was a tube, about the thickness of a garden hose, which led to a stainless steel canister, no doubt containing the rabies virus which the cultists intended to disperse onto the unsuspecting crowd. I immediately recognized it as the urn from my dream.

A noise from across the room startled me, and I whipped my head around to see from where it came. A gun appeared in the doorway, followed by an arm, and ultimately, the rest of Lou Donatella. He wasn't dressed in the bear cub costume, but instead in shorts and a dark-colored shirt.

"Odd, you in here?", Lou whispered.

"Yeah, over here," I answered.

Lou made his way over to me, staring hesitantly at the back of the ogre's head as he moved closer.

"It's not safe here," I warned.

"I know. Odd, I have psychic abilities. When we met I sensed you were in danger. I was led here, knowing I needed to help you, but from what I have no clue."

"Thanks, I may need it. Come help me figure out this contraption. I'm afraid if I can't make pancakes with it, I'm utterly clueless when it comes to these things."

We crouched next to the canister and inspected the setup. In addition to the hose from the ogre's mouth, a second hose led from the canister to what Lou explained was an air compressor. The cultists' plan materialized in my head instantly. They were going to release the virus via the ogre's breath blasts. The virus would spread silently through the crowd tonight. Everyone here would leave and infect anyone with which they came in contact, until they eventually succumbed to the virus. With the number of people infected tonight, it would spread quickly and efficiently. All of California could be infected and, in turn, the entire country and ultimately the entire human population.

"Be careful," I warned. "This thing contains a deadly virus. How do we dismantle it without getting blasted ourselves?"

Without saying anything Lou immediately went to work investigating the different components and fittings. His face set in concentration as he worked out which parts did what.

Finally he said, "We need to remove the canister from the air compressor, but not without closing off this valve." He pointed to a metal ring which encircled the tube leading from the compressor to the canister. "It looks like someone broke off the lever that normally does the job. We need a small piece of metal to slip in right here to turn the valve."

He started looking around the floor next to the compressor while I stood up and walked around the room. I picked up and threw down small pieces of trash, not content with their ability to help. Finally I found a long, thin screw, no doubt mistakenly dropped while assembling the fun house.

I handed it to Lou saying, "Will this work?"

Wordlessly, Lou skillfully angled the screw into place and, with trembling hands, closed the valve.

With a victorious smile on his face he said, "There, that should do it. Now let's disconnect this thing and get outta here."

I held the canister while Lou unscrewed connections to the tubes. Once free I held it close to me, wanting nothing more than to get it far away from this place and into Chief Porter's hands for proper disposal.

"Let's go," I said as I stood up, turning to leave.

"Wait," Lou replied. "Let's make sure they can't use this thing again."

He proceeded to break off bits and pieces here and there. Once satisfied he said, "Now let's go."

As we walked toward Taylor's body and the door through which I entered, a man walked confidently into the room from the opposite door through which Lou entered. He held a gun out in front of him, pointed squarely at Lou. Taken by surprise, neither of us had time to raise our guns at him before he fired a single shot, dropping Lou mid step.

I stood shocked, frozen in place. I watched as blood oozed from the hole in Lou's head.

"Drop the gun you dog," he hissed, swinging his gun towards me, his face twisted in a nasty snarl.

I dropped the Glock and held the canister tighter to my chest.

"Now put the bottle on the ground real slow."

"I can't do that," I answered.

"What do you mean you can't do that?" Shocked by my disobedience, his face morphed from snarled contempt to baffled incomprehension.

"I can't let you infect these people. They haven't done anything to deserve that."

His face recovered quickly and again hatred spread across his countenance. He started walking toward me slowly, gun raised menacingly at my face. "You will give me that bottle, whether you like it or not. You and all the other dogs will die. There's nothing you can do about it."

With uncanny quickness, he lowered the gun slightly and fired a shot at my chest.

It felt like being hit by a freight train, but I remained on my feet. I looked down and moved my hand, already bandaged and bloody, to below my ribcage, where the bullet pierced my body. Blood was flowing freely and the bandages on my hand were immediately saturated scarlet. In what felt like slow motion, I dropped to my knees, the canister slipping from my arm and onto the dusty floor. It rolled away from me, toward the cultist, while I slumped lower, landing with my face pressed against the floor, the scene before me fading in and out.

In a blur, I saw the man walk toward me, bend down to pick up the canister, and walk out of the door in which he entered.

I wanted to close my eyes and drift off to sleep. The act of keeping my eyes open seemed to be a task too difficult to achieve. I thought of Chief Porter and Ozzie Boone and Terri Stambaugh. I thought of Annamaria and Edie Fischer. In that moment, even despite their many faults and our complicated past, I thought of my parents. I knew I had to move and warn the Chief. Laboriously, I pushed myself up onto my knees. My head spun, feeling like I would pass out at any second. I balanced myself on my knees, willing consciousness to remain.

Leaving a smeared path of blood behind me, I crawled toward the ogre's head, the fun house's entrance. I pushed hard on the double doors until they relented and I spilled out down the ramp into the night air.