THE HAUNTING
The first call was an indication of how weird the night was going to get. The tones sounded. "Station 51 man trapped in a tree, 5609 Sycamore, 5-6-0-9 Sycamore, cross street Oak. Time out 20:20." When they arrived they met a woman in the front yard of her home, with two small girls circling her like satellites. She looked drained and apathetic. Captain Stanley went over to her.
"Ma’am we had a call about a man stuck in a tree?" She looked into his eyes and began to laugh hysterically, tears springing to her eyes. When she stopped laughing, she wiped her eyes, took each girl by the hand, and nodded her head for them follow her into the back yard. She led them to a very large tree in the corner that had three more children standing around its base.
"Bobby, take your sisters into the house, it’s getting chilly out here."
"Aw mom,” he stomped his foot angrily, “we want to see how they get him down."
"I’m sure it will be with a ladder. Now go. You start the bath water for your sisters."
"But…"
"Now!" she told him sternly. “You can watch from the patio after you start that water. Go."
"I don’t know why I have to start their water," he complained as he walked past the firefighters. "They’re big enough to start their own water."
"Robert!" He stopped and turned. "Stop complaining and do as I asked."
"Okay." The boy headed for the house with his smaller siblings in tow. Captain Stanley, Johnny and Roy stepped up to the base of the tree and looked up. The man was almost to the top of the tree and standing precariously on a very small branch.
"Sir, are you injured?" Captain Stanley yelled up to him.
"OwWooooooo!" was the response.
"Sir?" asked Cap as he stepped away from the tree to get a different view. Roy went over to the wife.
"Ma’am, is he on any medication that we should know about?" She began laughing again.
"No, but he should be. He’s a nut case if ever I saw one." She looked up into the tree and yelled up to her husband. "I told them you’re a nut case, Harry! They’re gonna lock you up, and throw away the key!"
"It’s not my fault that I was born this way," he howled back. "You could never understand me, Margaret. I am what I am, OwWoooooo!" Johnny fought back a giggle. His captain and partner gave him a dirty look.
"See what I mean? You’re a nut case, Harry, and they’re trying not to laugh at you. This is what I go through every full moon. Only this is the first time that he has ever done anything so stupid. He usually has me lock him in the basement for the night." The three firemen looked at her in shock. "Oh, I never locked the door,” she said in her defense, “but he didn’t know that. He could have gotten out whenever he wanted. I thought he wanted me to leave him alone for the night."
"Get your climbing gear fellas, you’re going up." Captain Stanley told them. He spoke into the HT as Johnny and Roy went to get their equipment. "Engine 51, bring the ladder around back."
"10-4 Cap." Mike Stoker answered. When his men had assembled they made quick work of getting the man out of the tree. He didn’t have any apparent injuries; a few minor abrasions, but nothing serious. As his feet touched the ground he began to struggle. He tried running, but the men successfully pinned him to the ground. Cap called dispatch for police backup.
"OwWooooo!" he howled again. He began growling and scratching at Johnny. He continued thrashing, almost achieving his goal of escape at one point. The man turned his head and bit down on Roy’s forearm leaving teeth marks and drawing blood. He screamed in pain, and pulled away.
"Rampart, this is squad 51, do you read?" Johnny held his hand over the bio-phone mouth piece and mouthed, You okay? Roy nodded and stepped over into the better light on the deck.
"Go ahead, 51." Dr. Morton’s responded.
"Rampart, we have a male approximately 30, who is combative, and thinks he’s a werewolf. Four individuals are restraining him. Vitals are as follows, BP 120/40, respiration is rapid, and pulse is 100. Request permission to sedate." After Johnny had administered the sedative, and Harry was strapped down tightly to the stretcher, he went to check on his partner. "Man, he really got you," he went over to the drug box and got the Betadine swabs. He wiped around the wound. "We’ll have Dr. Brackett look at it when we get to Rampart." He placed a clean bandage over the bleeding arm and wrapped it tightly. "You want to ride with him?" Johnny asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"What?” Roy asked, “There is no way that I am going to get into any vehicle with that man. He’s already taken a chunk out of my arm; I’m not going to give him a shot at the rest of my body!"
"Yeah, I guess Joanne wouldn’t be very happy with me, would she?"
"Joanne? I don’t think I’d be very happy with you. I’ll take the squad to the hospital. Thank you," Roy commented sarcastically.
#####
It was after eleven when they got back to the station, and the others were in bed for the night. Johnny went to the kitchen, and straight to the refrigerator. He pulled out the gallon of milk and took it over to the counter.
"Want a glass of milk?"
"No, thanks," Roy said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He inspected his bandage and rubbed the top of it. "This really hurts." Johnny put the milk back into the refrigerator.
"I read somewhere that once you’ve been bitten by a werewolf that you become one," He sat down at the table across from Roy, grinning.
"Thanks for nothing," Roy said. "I think I’ll go get ready for…," the tones sounded. Roy dropped his head to the table before jumping up to answer the call.
"Squad 51, unknown injury. 1300 North Davis Avenue. 1-3-0-0 North Davis Avenue, cross street Robert. Time out 11:10." Roy wrote down the address and answered the handset, as Johnny got into the squad.
"Squad 51, KMG 365." They left the station.
As they pulled up to the large Victorian residence, Johnny turned off the siren. Both men noticed there were no lights on anywhere in the house. It looked like it had seen better days. The roof was collapsing, the shutters were falling off, the paint was almost non-existent, and several of the windows were broken or missing altogether. The two men carefully exited the squad, keeping a cautious eye on the front door. They both grabbed flashlights. Johnny flipped his on, and placed it under his chin to give his face an eerie appearance.
"It’s almost the witching hour!" Johnny joked.
"I think you’re spending way to much time with Chet.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’d expect that kind of behavior from him while we’re walking up to this house." Roy indicated with his head. He turned on his flashlight.
"What? It was just a joke," He explained. They carefully stepped onto the rickety porch. Roy reached up to knock on the door, and it opened with a rusty creak.
"You were saying?" Roy whispered. Johnny shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Hello?" Roy yelled into the house. "Is there anyone here?" the silence was deafening. "Hello?" Roy yelled again, "Fire department, we had a call about an injury."
"HELP ME!" The scream came from somewhere in the darkness. "Oh god, PLEASE HELP ME!"
"Where are you ma’am?" Roy yelled back. He indicated to Johnny to set the equipment down on the porch. He didn’t want anything hampering their escape, if they needed to run. Using the flashlights to light the way, they slowly entered the dark house.
"I’m upstairs. Oh god, he’s gonna kill me!" she answered. "HURRY!" The two men carefully stepped up to the rotten staircase.
"GO AWAY!" a deep voice shouted forcefully from upstairs.
"We’re with the fire department, we’re here to help!" Johnny replied.
"We don’t need any help, go away!" the voice boomed.
"If somebody is hurt we can help," Roy answered back.
"You can’t help us, go away," it roared.
"He’s going to kill me!" Roy looked at the first step and carefully placed his foot on it, slowly putting weight on it. He put his flashlight into his right hand, and kept a death grip on the railing with his left. Johnny followed closely behind. They reached the landing and continued up to the next floor.
"Ma’am, where are you?" Roy yelled.
"Up here. Hurry!"
"Is she in the attic?" Johnny whispered.
"That’s what it sounds like," Roy whispered back.
"Maybe we should wait for police backup," Johnny cautioned.
"Waiting may be out of the question; she says he’s going to kill her if we don’t hurry," Roy stated quietly. “We might be able to talk some sense into him," Roy didn’t sound convinced by his own argument.
"Yeah, right, like we talked some sense into the werewolf," Johnny commented, seriously. As he spoke, there was a blood-curdling scream, which caused both men to shiver. They looked up at the ceiling, and proceeded up the next flight of stairs. They could hear the woman’s pain-filled moan coming from behind a closed door. Roy reached his hand out, and slowly turned the dust covered glass knob. Opening the door to the attic, he flashed his light up into the darkness. He heard a sound like something being dragged across the floor.
"Hello?"
"Help me.” Carefully going up the attic stairs, they reached the top; the night sky shining brightly through holes in the rotting roof. Listening for the whimpering woman, they stepped into the attic proper, and ran the flashlight beams along the floor, seeing nothing but dusty wooden planks.
Roy walked into a spider’s web. He wiped his hand over his face, and down his shoulders to clear the sticky material. Johnny watched his partner desperately trying to clear his face, and he started to snicker. Roy glared at him and ran his hand over his face again.
"Help me," the female voice was growing weaker.
"Ma’am, we’re here, where are you?" Roy asked, stopping. Johnny bumped into Roy’s backside.
"Sorry." Johnny whispered. He saw something move in the corner. He pointed his flashlight; slowly following the beam as it led him across the floor. "Ma’am?" Something ran between his feet. He screamed and jumped into the air, landing noisily on the floor. Roy quickly flashed his light in Johnny’s direction, and saw a mouse scurry into a hole in the wall. He had to control his snicker. "She’s not up here," Johnny growled.
Continuing to shine his flashlight into the darkest parts of the attic, Roy took a tentative step forward. He was brought up short by a cold breeze that went across his neck, causing every hair on his body to stand on end. The deep voice returned and boomed through the attic rafters.
"GET OUT!" Roy slowly turned; fear grabbed his intestines, and turned his blood into ice crystals.
"Johnny?" he whispered, pointing his flashlight at the place where he had last seen Johnny. Almost in a state of panic Roy ran the beam of light around the attic. The weeping woman was standing against the wall in a blood soaked dress. Her hands reached toward him covered with her own blood. He took a precarious step forward, and pointed the beam of light at her. She disappeared, but in her place stood Johnny on the tips of his toes, grabbing at his neck; his face a deep red from lack of oxygen. Roy ran to his partner and lifted him up. He reached into his medic holster, pulled out the scissors, and cut the thin rope that held Johnny by the neck
He grabbed Johnny by the arm, and pulled him toward the attic stairway. Their flashlights lay forgotten on the floor of the attic. The woman's sobs filled the air all around them.
They carefully made their way down the decaying steps. Two loud shots shook the house and something hit the floor. They quickly ran down the stairs, and out the front door. A patrol car pulled up beside their squad.
"Hey, guys, we couldn’t raise you on the radio," The officer stated as he joined the paramedics. “It was a false alarm. Some kids phoned it in trying to be cute."
"Someone was just shot in there, Mark," Roy’s voice trembled slightly.
"That’s impossible. No one’s been in that house in over twenty years.”
"What?" Roy asked. “We heard the gun fire and a body fall.”
“There isn’t anyone in there.” He thought a moment, “The kids in the neighborhood swear up and down that Hattie and Turk haunt this place.” He looked at the rat infested building.
“And you believe what kids say?” Johnny asked, finally finding his voice.
“Well, we’ve had some pretty weird things happen at this place so…”
“What’s the story about Hattie and Turk?” Roy asked.
"Well from what I’ve gathered he was an abusive man, who was extremely jealous of Hattie. This had been building for two years and finally, on Halloween night around 10:30,” they looked at their watches; it was 11:32. "…he started to beat her. If he couldn’t have her all to himself no man could have her.” He paused a moment. "At 11:30 p.m. Turk put a bullet in her head with his pearl handled Smith and Wesson six shooter, killing her instantly. Then he did the same to himself." Both paramedics fell against the squad. Seeing the effect of the story on the men he quickly changed the subject. "Hey, John, what did you do to your neck?” Johnny’s hand rushed up to his throat. Roy leaned forward and lifted his chin.
"Hey, Mark, shine your flashlight over here."
"Sure." He pulled his flashlight up and turned it on Johnny’s neck. "Wow, how did you do that, Gage?"
"I think we’ll have Dr. Brackett take a look at this." Roy stated.
"How’d you do that?" Mark asked again when he hadn’t received an answer.
"Turk tried to hang me," Johnny replied. . Mark’s mouth dropped open.
"Yeah right, no way, your reputation for injuries precedes you, Gage."
"Ask Roy, he saw how I got it," Johnny stated. Mark looked at Roy, who only shrugged his shoulders.
"There is no one in that house," the officer stated.
"You’re right," Roy replied, "There is no one in that house." He looked up at the house. "Get in; I’m going to get the equipment." He carefully stepped up on to the porch, and bent over to pick up the equipment. As he straightened, the door slowly screeched shut. He heard the distinctive click of the lock sliding home. He hit the ground running, tossing the boxes between him and his partner. "I don’t think I will ever work another Halloween night as long as I live.” He put the squad in gear and pulled away from the curb.
"I’ll agree with you on that one," Johnny answered back.
THE END
*Click on the door to send Katy feedback
Guest Dispatchers Stories by Katy Sundberg
