Shoes (MW2017)

Shoes (MW2017)

"What we got, Finn?" Isaac said as he walked up.

"Johnson. Nice of you to join us."

"Got held up coming over the bridge. What is this mess?"

"Dead guy."

"Strangely enough I'd figured that much out," Johnson said sarcastically.

"Contusions on the forearms. Lacerations on the throat, thorax, and abdomen," came a voice from by the body.

"You forensics guys. What does it mean, Harris?"

Harris gave him a flat stare, while Finney sipped his coffee and looked elsewhere.

"It means," he said slowly, as if talking to a child, "that he was mauled."

"Animal did this?" Isaac said, waving a brown hand vaguely across the grisly scene. His dark eyes scanned over the alley, the homeless man laying in a pool of his own blood on the asphalt, the dumpsters, the fence with the hole in it.

"Near as I can tell, yeah. But it's strange. There are no bite marks. Just claws. And very unusual claws at that - there are only three. It's as if he was mauled by a lion with a missing toe on its front paw."

"A lion," he said, "missing a toe."

"What?"

Johnson pursed his lips, then blew out a breath. "Alright, Finn, any witnesses?"

"Just her," Finn jabbed a thumb behind him, back toward the squad cars. A young girl, maybe eleven years old, sat in the back of Menendez and Gardner's squad car, looking at her feet. Even from this distance he could see dirt on her knees and arms, her clothes didn't fit, and her shoes were breaking at the toes.

"I'll catch up later, Finn," he said, heading toward the little girl.

He walked up to where Gardner was now kneeling outside the car, and tapped her on the shoulder. He motioned her off to the side, noticing the little girl did not even look up.

"Has she said anything, Kim?"

Gardner shook her head. "She won't talk. I was going to refer her to psych."

"Give me a minute with her, will you?" She nodded curtly, turning to go help secure the scene.

Johnson went to the other side of the squad car, opened the door and climbed in. The girl did not even move.

"My name is Isaac. Can you tell me your name?" No response.

"Did you see what happened back there down the alleyway?" She just stared at her ragged shoes.

Nothing he asked her elicited even the slightest response. He let the silence stretch for a moment, casting about for some idea how to get what he wanted. A thought struck him.

"Are you hungry?"

She moved. Just the slightest turn of her head toward him. That's it.

"I'm hungry. Would you like to get away from here?" She moved again, just a bit more. She turned her head enough that he could see her dirty cheek. "Let's get outta here. I know a good place, just a block from here. You like ice cream, right?"

Slowly, she nodded, just the tiniest bit. He exited the car, came around the back, and held out his hand to her.

"Ain't nothin gonna hurt you, child," he said. "Let's go get something to eat."

Gingerly, the girl took his hand and swung her feet out of the car. She held his hand as she stood up, and he started to lead her back around the car to the end of the alleyway.

"Isaac!" Gardner called. "Johnson, what are you doing?" She jogged over toward him and he turned to her. The girl tucked in behind him, clutching at his hand and burying her face in his suit coat.

"I'm getting her something to eat," he said softly. "She's starving."

"I was going to," she protested, but he looked away.

"I know what you were gonna do, but before you do, I'm gonna get her something to eat first," he said firmly, looking her in the eyes.

Finally she nodded, and Isaac turned to lead the girl around the corner and down the block.

cont.

Joszef's Diner was the best place to get a burger and a malt on the south side of the city. Isaac smiled as Donna stopped by their booth.

"Who's your new girl, Detective?" she asked him.

"She's my friend. She's helping me catch a bad guy," he replied.

Donna eyed the girl and gave her a motherly smile.

"How about a couple burgers and fries, and a couple chocolate malts," Isaac told her. Donna marked their order down with a friendly smile and turned to head back to the kitchen. In a few minutes she brought out a small plate with a rolled up, damp cloth.

The girl had stared down at the table the whole time, not daring to look at him or Donna. He pointed to the cloth. "It's for your hands," he said.

She turned her head just a touch to look at the cloth, then looked back down at the table, her hands in her lap. Isaac got up and moved around the table.

"Here, give me your hand. It's OK, not gonna hurt you, child."

She still didn't move. He grabbed the cloth, then gently lifted her hand. She didn't resist, but let him wash the dirt off her hands. Emboldened by her allowing him to clean her hands, he took a chance and pulled her hair aside, then started to wipe the dirt off her cheek. Slowly she looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes. Hers were a stunning pale blue, with large irises full of color. Her red-gold hair framed them, making them stand out even more in contrast.

"You such a pretty girl, how come you hidin' under all that dirt?"

He finished by trying to get some of the dirt out from under her broken fingernails. As he set the now-filthy cloth back on the plate, he saw streaks of red on it.

"There, all better. And here's our food. Hope ya hungry," he smiled at her. He made to get up and move back to his side of the booth, but she grabbed his hand desperately and pulled at him. He looked down at her, and she shook her head quickly.

"A'right, a'right, I'll stay here." He sat back down.

Donna brought their dinners and for a few minutes they ate in silence. The girl didn't touch her hamburger, but one by one she ate the french fries, plain, with no salt or ketchup, still staring dully at the plate he had sat before her. She held his hand the whole time.

After a few minutes, he looked down at her. "You goin' tell me your name now?"

She looked out of the corner of her eye at him, without moving her head.

"Sh," she said, almost too soft to hear.

"I didn't hear that," Isaac said. "What's your name now?"

Just a little louder, she whispered, "Shoes."

"Your name is 'Shoes'?" he asked, incredulous.

"No shoes." She continued to eat her fries.

Isaac was bewildered, but shrugged it off. "Pssshhh," he said quietly, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye again. "You sure you don't want any ketchup with those fries?"

She stopped a french fry halfway to her mouth. She shook her head quickly. "No blood."

Studying her slowly, he set the ketchup back down on the table. They ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

cont.

Later they returned to the scene, as dusk was beginning to fall. He walked the alley once more, trying to piece together the timeline. Nothing stood out to him. There was nothing there to see. No bloody footprints, no signs of a struggle. It was as if the man stood still and let himself be murdered. Isaac shook his head. He had nothing.

He sauntered back to his car where Shoes sat in the passenger seat. He didn't know what else to call her. He figured she'd end up in the system, but as a child of the system himself, he knew what it was like. But what else could he do with her?

The evening light was failing as he got back to the car, and as he climbed in he saw her looking at something in her hands.

"What you got?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye again. "Light."

Indeed, whatever she held in her hand was glowing a whitish-blue, pulsing slowly. She cupped it in her fist and shoved it in the pocket of his suit coat, which he had given her to wear against the chill of the northern autumn evening.

"You one mysterious girl, Shoes. A'right, I'm gonna take you to the precinct. You'll be safe there, OK?"

She nodded morosely, and looked down at her shoes.

"You ain't in any trouble, girl. I know you didn't hurt that man." Silence. Isaac shook his head. A man dead in an alleyway in what looked like an animal attack, and his only witness was a petrified girl who called herself Shoes. "I shoulda stayed in Birmingham. Crazy place y'all got up here," he muttered to himself.

Just as he turned the car on and flipped on the lights, Shoes screamed. "No shoes!! No shoes!! No shoes!!" He looked over at her just as movement flashed in front of the car. Shoes had crouched down off the seat and was curling up as small as she could underneath the glovebox.

"What the," he started just as something pounded on the windshield. "Damn!" he shouted, slamming the car into reverse and backing up. A tall figured moved in the darkness just outside the headlight beams, coming after the car. He shoved it into first just as whatever-it-was caught up to the car on Shoes' side. She shrieked as a monstrous, sharp-toothed face appeared just outside, and a three-clawed hand splayed out on the glass.

"No shoes!! No shoes!! No shoes!!"

Isaac jammed the accelerator to the floor, popped the clutch out, and the car tore out of the alleyway entrance onto 10th Street. He pulled out his radio and called in. His heart was racing and he tried to process what had just happened. The girl's screams combined with the revving engine as he shifted up to fifth, barreling down the avenue toward the precinct.

"Y'all need 'a stop screamin', girl, and get back up in y' seat belt." The screaming stopped, but she stayed on the floor whimpering.

When they arrived at the precinct he walked around to the other side and opened the door. He knelt down beside her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Like I said, girl, ain't no one gonna hurt you. We here now, come on, let's get inside." She climbed out of the car and buried her face in his shirt, throwing her thin arms around him. He scooped her up and carried her inside. She nuzzled into his shoulder and cried.

"It's goin' be OK, girl. Goin' be OK."

"Johnson!" Chief called out. "Where have you been?"

"Just interviewing a witness, sir," he replied. He turned to the Chief's assistant. "Nancy could you get me a hot cocoa," he nodded down at Shoes. "I'll be in Interview 6."

"Sure thing honey," she replied, smiling down at the weeping girl. "Aw, it'll be alright girl. Detective Johnson's the best we got."

Interview 6 was one of the witness interview rooms, not an interrogation room. It had curtains that could be drawn for privacy, a couch and comfortable chairs, unlike the stark, stainless-steel interrogation rooms.

He set Shoes down on the couch and rested a pillow underneath her head. She continued to cry quietly as Chief knocked on the door, Nancy right behind him. Isaac slipped out of Interview 6, while Nancy went in to give Shoes her cocoa.

"What the hell is going on, Johnson? You have any leads yet?"

"Nothing I can follow up on yet, Chief. She barely talks. I think she said maybe all of six words."

"Figure out how to get her to talk, Johnson. We need a break on this fast. Rumor gets out there's some animal out there killing people in October, we're going have all the crazies come out thinking it's a damn werewolf, or a vampire or the zombie apocalypse. Figure it out!"

Chief stalked away in a huff as Nancy emerged from the room behind him.

"Who is she, Isaac?" Nancy was beautiful, with full lips, almond eyes, dark skin and dark hair.

"She saw a murder down on 10th and Washington. But she's in shock or something. Won't talk. She just keeps saying, 'No shoes'. Like that should mean something."

Nancy looked back at the girl, who had finally sat up and was sipping the cocoa.

"You got your work cut out for you, Isaac," she said, then headed back to the Chief's office.

cont.

It was getting late. He decided to make one last attempt to get Shoes to talk more before going home. The image of whatever had attacked his car ran through his mind over and over, the sharp teeth and dead eyes, the three claws on the window, rippling muscular frame underneath grayish skin. Had he imagined it?

He pulled a chair around and sat in front of Shoes.

"You saw the man die, didn't you, Shoes."

She looked down, and he saw a tear fall. He waited a few moments.

"Shoes? Did you see the man?"

"Hayley. It's Hayley."

"Your name? That's your name? Hayley?" She nodded solemnly.

He stuck his hand out, and she flinched. "Detective Isaac Johnson, Hayley. I'm glad to finally know your name."

"You can still call me Shoes."

"Awright, Shoes. Can you tell me what happened? Was it that," he hesitated, trying to come up with a way to describe what they had seen. He stopped and tried a different direction. "You know I saw it too, right?"

"You know, now."

"Did that thing kill the man?"

"It doesn't wear shoes."

He looked at her, suddenly understanding. "Do you know what it is?"

"No."

"Why did it kill the man?"

"Because of me," she broke down, crying.

"Whoa, hey girl, it ain't your fault. You didn't have nothing to do with that man dying, Hayley."

"Yes I did. He was killed because I'm bad."

"Why you sayin' you bad?"

"Because I stole."

"Stole? What'd you steal?"

"This." She reached into the pocket of his suit coat and pulled out the glowing object she had held before. "It wants this. He had it, but it was pretty. I never had anything pretty, so I took it from old Mr. Anderson. But it wanted it, and it killed him cause I took it."

"What," he cleared his throat. This was getting more bizarre by the moment. "What makes you think it wants that?"

"It said so. 'Light!' it kept saying. 'Light!' It's coming. And it's going to kill us all.

"Shoes, I ain't gonna," but she cut him off.

"You can't stop it. No one can. It's already here."

Just then he heard shouting outside the room, in the main area of the precinct. Someone screamed, a man. Something crashed. Gunshots, more screaming. He looked at Shoes.

"Get under the desk, girl. Now!"

Isaac drew his weapon and cracked the door open just as something roared, and a body flew across the room. More shots rang out, flashes of light.

"Shoes, give me the light."

She was whimpering under the desk, "no shoes, no shoes, no shoes."

"Girl I need that light right now. Toss it out here."

She scrambled out from behind the desk and grabbed his belt. He looked at her, but couldn't bring himself to tell her to go away. "You listen, Shoes, we might have to move fast. You listen and do exactly as I tell you. You ready?" She nodded.

He pulled the door open and called out. "Hey!"

The creature - that was the only way he could describe it - was over seven feet tall. It looked like something out of a movie, with gray skin, black eyes, thick dark claws on its hands and feet. If an ape could be crossed with a carnivorous dinosaur, he thought it would look like this. Strangely, wore some form of clothing - metal straps and strange britches, leaving its chest bare even in the cold of October.

At his shout it swung its head toward him, baring its teeth and hissing horribly.

"I got what you need right here!" He pointed his pistol at the creature. "Yeah, that's right. Right here, y'all. You just keep it right here."

The thing jumped lightly up on a desk, looking from him to Shoes. It seemed to scent the air, then focused on the terrified girl.

It raised its three-clawed hand toward her. "Laat!"

"Yo Jurassic Park, you leave her alone! Keep your eyes over here!"

It crouched and hissed at him, then roared.

"Back off! Back off!"

Suddenly it sprang forward and grabbed for Shoes, but it only caught a clawful of his suitcoat, ripping it off her as she squealed and darted away. Isaac unloaded his weapon at it but it seemed to have no effect. It casually swiped at him backhand, sending him flying six feet backward and crashing into a desk.

"Laat!!" it crowed triumpantly, ripping his jacket apart and pulling out the small glowing orb.

From one of the many pouches strapped to its metal belt, it produced a small device. It took the glowing orb, placed it into a depression in the device just the right size, and seemed to grin, baring its sharp teeth again. The device lit up in several colors.

Shoes came around and hid behind Isaac on the floor by some knocked-over desks. The creature walked over to them, bending low.

"Noshuzh," it said in a raspy, harsh voice. Shoes wailed.

The creature seemed to laugh, then it straightened up. With one clawed finger, it pressed a blinking green button on the device it held. Then it vanished.

THE END

Well done ! 👍🏼

a reply to: Sheye

Thanks, Sheye! I'm glad you liked it!

a reply to: PrairieShepherdThat was great I liked the pace and you better revisit the detective some time I wanna hear more about him

a reply to: PrairieShepherd

As far as ripping yarns go, that was great.

Thanks for the story.

kind regards,

bally

I'm interested in seeing how this story plays into my dreams.

I really enjoyed it. I'm not a big fan of thriller/scary stuff, but this was just enough without being too much for me.

Thanks for reading, guys, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

a reply to: SprocketUK
It moves faster than some of my other stuff, doesn't it? I agree, the more I wrote about Detective Johnson the more I was like, "this dude is cool"! Thing is, I know precisely squat about police procedure LOL, so writing more about Det. Johnson would be a serious research project.

a reply to: bally001
"Ripping yarns" now that's high praise, Bally. Thanks!

a reply to: chelsdh
Hiya Chels! So, I gotta know, did it affect your dreams last night? Honestly I'm not much for thriller/scary myself, but I love monsters and action/adventure.

I'm glad you stopped by and I hope I didn't give you nightmares! Eeek!