She charged the security guard who had punched Courtneyand kicked him between the legs. He fell to the ground like a sack ofdoorknobs. The other security guard with the bite on his forearm blocked hersecond kick, which was aimed for the exact same place. He put his arms on hershoulders and pushed her away. She slid across the floor, and came to rest atthe foot of an oxygen tank. That's when the screaming began.
It wasn't from anyone that could be seen. It was fromanother curtained off room. The doctor, Joan, said it all for everyone involved..."What now?"
Chapter 13: Use Your Head
Mort strained his ears when he heard the police radiosquawk to life.
"Car 32, what's your status? Over," said a malevoice over the radio.
Weasel picked up the microphone and replied,"Dispatch, we're on the way in with two suspects in custody. Over."
"We're going to need you to shoot on over to 2378Lincoln. We've got a mother and a minor trapped in a room. Sounds like thefather is possibly intoxicated. We need you to head on over there and check itout. Over."
"Isn't there anyone else? We've got two suspects inthe car already. Over."
There was a pause on the other end, and then thedispatcher spoke again, "Sorry, 32. The switchboard's flooded tonight, andall others are occupied. Must be the full moon. You guys are the closest andmost available. Over."
"Alright, dispatch. En route. Over." Weaselslammed the receiver home. "Fuck. I can't believe this shit. Hit thelights, Arnie." Weasel looked over at his partner, who was either sleepingor unconscious. "Fucking, Arnie. Wake up, man."
"Hey. Is he alright?" Mort asked from thebackseat, which caused a fresh round of stirring and struggling from DirtyKurt.
Weasel looked at Mort using the rearview mirror and said,"Don't you worry about him. He's just catching some winks. He's got anewborn baby at home. Bastard's probably dead tired."
"Some dad he's going to be, beating up on homelesspeople. That kid doesn't have a chance." Mort knew he shouldn't have saidit, but he was still pretty pissed off about the whole situation.
Just then Weasel pulled up to a red light and he turnedaround in his seat and regarded Mort with his squinty brown eyes. "I'monly gonna tell you once. You shut your face for the rest of the night, or youwon't be making it to the police station. You got that?"
Mort glared at the policeman, and that anti-authority,free as fuck part of him wanted to tell the cop to kiss his ass. The part ofhim that enjoyed not bleeding decided to just nod his head, but slowly so thecop knew he wasn't totally on board.
It was good enough for Weasel, so he turned around andbegan driving. The houses of the night flew by, silent in the city's darkness.They would occasionally pass a denizen of the night, stumbling along to Godknows where. Mort thought there were more than usual, shambling around in lastnight's clothes or sometimes pajamas, eyes glazed over, placing one foot infront of the other. It was beautiful to Mort, the silence of the city at 2:30in the morning. He understood why some people would want to go out for a walkat night, away from all the stares, the judgment, and the harassment.
Mort was lost in thought as they cruised past an alley.He thought he saw a figure covered in blood crouched over another prone figure,but the alley flashed by so quick that he couldn't be sure. Perhaps he justneeded to nap. Mort looked over at Dirty Kurt, who hadn't stopped biting at thebag over his head for the entire ride, the clicking of his teeth sent shiversup his spine. He could wait to sleep.
They pulled over in front of a two-story house, yellowand generic. Weasel, whose forehead was beaded with sweat, undid his seatbelt,and said, "C'mon, partner. Time to work." Weasel opened the car doorpartway and made to get out of the car, until he noticed that his partnerwasn't waking up. He closed the door with a meaty thunk, and then Weasel leanedover and shook Arnie by the shoulder. "Wake up, man. We got stuff todo."
Worry washed over Weasel's face, and he leaned in closeto Arnie, "Are you ok? Stop fucking around, man." Weasel put hisfingers on Arnie's throat, searching for a pulse.
"Is he alive?" Mort asked, genuinely concerned.
Weasel took his fingers away from Arnie's throat, andreplied, "Barely, but he's burning up. I better call for some help."
Weasel turned away from Arnie and reached for the policeradio. Mort jumped as Arnie's eyes snapped open and he grasped Weasel's hand.Weasel's eyes opened wide, and he was clearly in shock as Arnie pulled his handtoward his yawning mouth lined with big, square teeth. Without hesitation,Arnie chomped down on Weasel's fingers.
Weasel screamed, "What the fuck are youdoing..." and then the words turned to screaming as blood poured out ofArnie's mouth. He twisted his head from side to side, and when Weasel finallyyanked his hand free, the fingers were gone. Weasel held his hand up in frontof his face, as blood squirted out of the stumps of his index and middlefinger. He only stared at them for a second before Arnie began crawling towardhim for seconds.
"Shoot him! He's gone crazy!" Mort screamed.
Weasel seemed to have heard him, and he tried to pull hispistol free. He hissed through his teeth as he bashed his finger stumps againstthe butt of his pistol. Arnie crawled closer, but the seatbelt he had been wearingwas impeding him. Weasel kicked at the man, and Arnie's nose crumpledunderneath the force of his police boot. With his other hand, Weasel tried toreach across his body and pull the pistol free. He was undoing the strap on theholster, when Arnie sunk his teeth into Weasel's inner thigh.
With his fingers, he clawed at the flesh of Weasel. Hisscreams echoed throughout the squad car, and Mort put his hands over his earsand squeezed his eyes shut, as if it were all a dream that would go away. Hiseyeballs ached from the pressure. The screaming continued, and when
