Part 21 (1/2)
The Lexus sport utility was parked at the end of the long driveway. The resident was home. Public enemy number one.
Jackson walked to the gate. It wasn't locked. He pressed a lever, and the gate opened with a soft squeak.
He went inside. He rested his hand on the b.u.t.t of his .357 Magnum.
Pushed by a stiff breeze, the gate clanged shut behind him.
As if summoned by the noise, a group of dogs bolted out of the deep shadows beneath the trees. Big ones. Four of them. They barked, snapped, growled.
s.h.i.+t. Talk about a mess.
He didn't have time to make it outside before they caught him. They were moving fast-faster than he had ever seen hounds run. What the h.e.l.l were these mutts raised on?
He s.n.a.t.c.hed his .357 out of the holster. He backed up against the fence, aiming the gun in front of him.
The dogs surrounded him in a loose semicircle. They were a ragtag pack of mutts. They growled, thick saliva dripping from their mouths, their eyes wild and red. But they did not attack. He figured they must have been trained to capture, and only attack if their quarry tried to get away.
He didn't dare try to run. He would never make it. In fact, though he had the gun, he didn't feel confident about his chances if he took a crack at the mutts. He could take down one of the hounds with a bullet, but if they decided to attack him, as one, he was finished.
His mouth was dry.
The dogs glared at him, as if challenging him to make a move. d.a.m.ned if they didn't look him right in the eyes. They held no fear of him.
I ain't never seen no dogs act like this.
A man dressed in black emerged from the house. He strolled across the driveway. He wore a long, heavy jacket, a hat, aviator shades, boots, and, oddly, gloves. The temperature outdoors was in the low nineties. Wasn't this guy burning up in all those clothes?
But the most noticeable thing was that this was not the man Jackson had seen driving the Lexus around town. That guy had been shorter, and stout. He had never seen this guy before.
As the man approached, he raised his hand-a gesture the dogs could not have possibly seen-and the canines backed away, as if he controlled them with puppet strings.
Jackson cleared his throat. Something d.a.m.n strange was going on here.
He lowered the gun, but he did not put it away.
”I'm Chief Jackson,” he said. ”I'm here on police business.
”Greetings, Chief,” the man said. ”How may I help you?”
The fella had an odd, untraceable accent. French, kinda, but not exactly. Jackson couldn't pin it down.
”Nice dogs,” Jackson said. The canines had retreated into the shadows. He finally holstered the gun. ”Think they wanted to take a plug out of me”
”They might have, if I had not been present,” the man said. ”You've ventured onto private property, may I remind you.”
”I ain't here to snoop around. Got some police business to discuss with you”
The man folded his arms across his chest. ”I'm all ears.”
Jackson took his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped sweat off his forehead. ”Say, ain't you hot with all those dark, heavy clothes on? Last time I checked it was ninety-some degrees out here”
”I'm comfortable,” the guy said, in a tone that invited no discussion about his choice of clothing. ”You were saying about the purpose of your visit?”
”We've had a girl in town turn up missing. Black female, nineteen years old. We've got a reliable witness who says that late last night, a tall fella wearing black-kinda like you-was seen putting what looked like a body in the back of a silver Lexus SUV. Just like the one parked up there by the house”
Jackson watched the man's reaction closely, looking for a facial tick that indicated discomfort or guilt. But the man's poker face did not change, though Jackson could not see his eyes because of the dark shades he wore.
”If I understand this correctly,” the man said, ”you suspect that I was involved in the disappearance of this young lady.”
”Suspicion is kinda pointing toward you having something to do with it,” Jackson said. ”Where's the bald-headed man who lives here? Kinda stocky? I saw him driving through town a couple times.”
”He is away. But he is not the man you want, Chief. I am the one. I am guilty.”
Jackson was not often taken by surprise. But his mouth slipped open.
”You're telling me you're guilty?” Jackson said. ”You're confessing?”
”I abducted the young lady,” the man said. He smoothly removed his gla.s.ses.
Jackson gasped. This guy's eyes ... dear G.o.d. They were like twin black holes that sucked Jackson right into them. Jackson could not look away. A force as powerful as gravity compelled him to stand rigid and gaze, deeply, into the man's inhuman eyes.
Fella's done something to my mind, Jackson thought dimly. Reached in and taken control of it, like in those Star Wars movies, he's working ajedi mind trick on me, so help me, G.o.d.
As Jackson stood, entranced, the world receded as if swept away by a strong tide. The only reality was the man's eyes. Jackson no longer felt the oppressive heat and humidity. He no longer felt the ground under his feet and the sweat-drenched clothes that clung to his body. He no longer tasted the traces of the coffee he had sipped only minutes ago. No longer heard the soft wind that drifted across the yard.
The man's eyes were his world, his universe. They were everything.
When the man spoke again, his resonant voice was inside Jackson's head.
”Chief Jackson ... you are an honorable man and desire to serve your people, but now you will bend to a power greater than yourself. I required the young woman for purposes that you could not fathom in your mortal imagination. You will not arrest me. You will not question me further. You will not harbor any suspicion of those who currently dwell on this property. When you leave this place and continue your investigation into the woman's disappearance, you will direct your attention elsewhere. When you leave this place, you will not remember seeing me or the dogs. When you leave this place, the idea of ever visiting this residence again will fill you with paralyzing fear. You will not remember me issuing these commands to you. You will act upon them as though they spring from your own consciousness.
”Do you understand?”
”Yes,” Jackson said, numbly, not feeling his own lips move.
There was a popping sound, like fingers snapping.
Jackson blinked.
He stood in front of Jubilee's gates, alone.
Such sudden terror overcame him that he nearly collapsed. It was a wild, senseless fright, like a child's fear of the darkness. But he could not rationalize it away, could not argue it into submission. He was convinced that if he stood for another second on this property, the earth would buckle and erupt open like a hungry, gaping mouth. And swallow. Him. Whole.
”Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” Babbling, he ran to his patrol car. He hustled behind the wheel and roared away, spinning up gravel.
He did not look back.
Concealed in the shadows under a maple tree, the dogs flanking him, Kyle watched the police chief flee in his vehicle.
Mother frowned upon controlling the minds of men. She believed in finding peaceful ways to co-exist with humans and manipulating them through subtle, indirect means. Mind control was only to be used in the most extreme situations.