CHAPTER THREE

When the sun rose the next morning, it revealed a world wreathed in fog and dripping with damp as the sun’s rays melted the hard frost that lay over everything. From leaves to grass, from frozen horse-troughs to iron-hard earth, it all eased away and was replaced by a surreal, golden haze that turned the surrounding trees into ghostly figures glimpsed in wispy swirls of fog.

“Truly a ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, close bosom-friend of the maturing sun’,” Ezra quipped as he tried to avoid looking at the weathervane perched on the barn roof, the huge dog gleaming in the burgeoning sunshine. The droplets of water dripping from its gaping mouth made Ezra shudder. The thing looked as though it was drooling.

Josiah stood next to his friend on the porch and grinned. If Standish was quoting Keats then he was almost back to his old self. Almost.

“Did somebody mention bosoms?” Buck said, emerging from the house and pulling on his gloves.

Ezra cringed slightly.

“And there speaks a man whose favourite poetical utterances are bawdy limericks. Doesn’t your mind ever stray above the belt?”

Buck grinned.

“Jealousy is a terrible thing, Ezra – I can’t help it if I have a certain … attraction.” He rubbed his hands together to get rid of the chill and looked at Standish’s tired face. The man looked worn out. Buck rested a big hand on Ezra’s shoulder and was surprised when the undercover agent didn’t shrink away from the touch. Ezra was not a man for all that touchy-feely stuff. “You okay, Ez? You got a bit of a scare last night, huh?”

Standish looked up into earnest cobalt eyes, and the pithy retort died on the tip of his tongue. Wilmington was not teasing him – it was honest concern for a friend. He nodded slightly.

“A bit of an understatement, Buck. But I’m all right now, I can assure you, thank you.”

Wilmington’s handsome face crinkled into a happy smile, pleased that his friend was none the worse for his experience.

They were interrupted by Vin, who appeared around the side of the barn and waved at them to join him. As they walked up to him he jerked his head.

“C’mere. See what I found.”

Tanner led them around the side of the barn and into the shelter of a small stand of fir trees. Hunkering down on his haunches, he gestured at the ground.

“That ain’t no bear.”

Barely visible in a small patch of semi-frozen mud, was a paw print. It was huge. Buck whistled.

“Jesus! It’s sure big enough to be a bear! You sure about that, Vin?”

Tanner nodded, and traced the outline with long fingers.

“Bear’s got five toes, long claws … this is a front paw … bears tread mostly on the front part of their forepaws, you rarely see the whole print unless it’s very clear. This is more like a dog. See? Kinda compact, four toes, short claws. This is definitely not a bear.” He looked up at Ezra, who had become extremely pale. “Whatever the hell you saw Ez, it sure wasn’t a bear. But if this is a dog, it’s the biggest goddamn dog I ever seen.”

Buck and Vin looked at Ezra expectantly, but Josiah rested a hand on Vin’s shoulder.

“Well Vin, it’s gone now. So let it lie for now, huh? If it comes back then we’ll likely get a better look at it, okay?”

Vin caught the guarded look in the profiler’s blue gaze and nodded. He would speak to Josiah later about this though – there was more going on here than met the eye, that was for sure.

As they walked back to the house Josiah noticed that Ezra was trembling, but said nothing. But he knew this couldn’t go on – whatever was going on here was more than the renowned Team Seven could handle, he was sure. Guns, villains and shootouts were easy compared to this. They needed help of a particular kind, and Josiah Sanchez decided that now was the time to call on someone he hadn’t seen in seven years.

When he got back to the house he dug out his cell phone and retired to his bedroom. Once on his own, he punched in a number and sat down to wait. After several rings, a voice answered. Josiah lowered his voice so he would not be overheard.

“Hello, could I speak to Director Manning, please? This is Agent Josiah Sanchez of Denver ATF – I’m an old friend.” He waited a few moments until he was put through. “Tom? Josiah Sanchez. Oh, I’m fine, just fine … yeah, Denver’s pretty nice. Listen Tom, I need a favour – yeah, yeah, I know – but you owe me, buddy. We need help here. Listen – I think we have a problem you can help us with …”

When the telephone call ended with Tom Manning promising some help within the week, Josiah sat back on his bed and thought for a while. All the seven had to do was sit tight and wait. He sighed. A week, maybe less, and then hopefully things could get back to normal.

Standing up, he was on the point of heading back into the kitchen for a coffee and some breakfast, when he noticed something. A black nose and a pair of paws peeped out from below Ezra’s camp bed.

“Diablo? That you boy? C’mon out of there you crazy ol’ hound.” Josiah peered under the camp bed, his hand straying to scratch the old dog’s head. But no amount of persuasion would tempt the Labrador out of his hiding place, and after a few minutes Josiah gave up.

“Well, boy, I hope that help Tom promised us turns up soon before your bladder gives out. You’re gonna have to come out of there sometime, feller.”

Giving Diablo a parting rub of the ears, Josiah headed off to get his coffee.

The rest of the seven were surprised when Ezra didn’t declare his intention of heading off back to his apartment as soon as breakfast was over, as was his wont. For the rest of the day he stayed at the ranch, relaxing with his friends and even enjoying an ice hockey game on TV as darkness fell. But not once did he step outside.

Finally, as the seven men sat down to a chili supper, Vin’s curiosity got the better of him. He waited until they had cleared away plates and cutlery, then relaxed back in his chair.

“Okay, Ez – are you gonna tell us exactly what the hell it was you saw out there last night, or do I have to sit on you and play my harmonica real loud?”

Standish froze in the act of taking a sip of coffee. Blinking rapidly for a second or two, he glanced over at Josiah, who nodded.

“Tell ‘em, son. They’ll believe you – I sure do.”

Ezra looked at the expectant faces of his team-mates and swallowed his mouthful of coffee. Should he tell them? Should he bare his soul and tell them something that he hadn’t a hope in hell’s chance of living down? Josiah thought they would believe him, but Ezra wasn’t so sure. They had always been a little chary of him, even after several years, he knew. Or was he just jumping to conclusions? Perhaps … perhaps he was the one who was chary of them – of their friendship … of their worry and affection for him. When he had walked back to the ranch house the previous night with the terror running through him, hadn’t he known in his heart that they would protect him … back him up without question? Perhaps it was time - time to trust implicitly, and without conditions.

Putting his coffee cup down on the table, he took a deep breath. And then he told them. He told them everything – from the feeling of revulsion that had struck him when he first saw the weathervane to the terror of seeing the huge, black … whatever-it-was … on the barn roof, its round, saucer-like eyes glowing a cold silver-green in the moonlight. Even just speaking about it made him tremble.

When he finished, he stood up as though to leave, sure he would be derided or at the very least, made fun of.

“Where are you going, Ez? Sit down. We have to talk this thing through, okay?” Chris looked up at the undercover agent, and Ezra was stunned to see the concern in Larabee’s green-gold gaze.

Ezra looked around the table at his team-mates … his friends … and sat down. All he saw were faces set with worry. He realised, with a lurch, that they were worried about him.

“You believe me?” He mumbled in shock.

Vin sat further back in his seat.

“Told ya, Ez – that weren’t no bear print. Maybe if I’d not seen that I would’ve thought it was too much cheese before bedtime playin’ tricks on ya, but not now. Looks like we got a problem, fellas.”

“You … you mean it’s a ghost?” JD was wide-eyed with shock.

“I don’t think so,” said Josiah with a slight smile. “Ghosts don’t tend to leave footprints. But it’s sure as hell something ‘not of this world’. But I have to say, that so far it doesn’t seem to be intent on hurting anyone. Ez, it just watched you, right?”

Ezra nodded, still astounded that his compadres, hard-as-nails ATF agents, were taking this seriously. Ordinarily Ezra himself would have dismissed such a story as bunkum. Until now. Now he believed, was one hundred percent certain, that there were indeed things out there in the big wide world that could not be reasonably explained.

“What if we just destroyed the weathervane?” added Nathan, still dubious about the whole ‘supernatural’ thing, but willing to try anything that would solve the problem, whatever it was.

Josiah shook his head.

“Not a good idea. I took the opportunity to get some advice, and I was told we should leave the thing alone until it can be studied. I’ve spoken to a friend of mine – a fella called Tom Manning. He’s the Director of an organisation called the B.P.R.D. – Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defence,” he added with a quirky grin as he saw the blank faces around him.

“Never heard of ‘em,” said Buck.

“I have,” Chris interjected. “Well, rumours, anyway. Some weird governmental department set up after the war to look into how the Nazis tried to use supernatural means to further their cause. Now they seem to look into weird and wonderful things around the world – even been to Russia and Africa, I hear.” He looked over at Josiah. “Are you gonna tell me you’ve worked with these guys?”

Josiah grinned.

“Yep. Once, about seven years back. When I was with the KCPD. Something to do with down-and-outs being flayed alive in the local parks. Something was sucking the skin off ‘em. Not pretty.” He added, grimacing at the memory. “Anyway, the B.P.R.D was called in, and ... well, they found out what was causing the deaths.”

JD’s eyes were almost out on stalks by this point.

“What was it?” he whispered.

Josiah fixed azure eyes on the young agent.

“Heard of the Aztec god Xipe Totec? No? Well, he was the god of Spring, one of the four powerful creator gods of the Aztecs. His priests are usually depicted as wearing the flayed skins of their living victims … you get my drift?” He saw JD blench. “Some college kids thought it was fun to make sacrifices to him … and it got messy. Very messy indeed. Xipe Totec decided to make his presence known, although the police department didn’t know it then. So they called in the B.P.R.D., and I met up with Tom – I’d met him a few times at seminars. It was one weird week, I can tell you, even for an old anthropologist like me who’s seen a few weird things in his time.”

Josiah fell silent and his friends absorbed the information as best as they could. The idea that there was something ‘supernatural’ about was difficult to accept, but they knew in their hearts that this was the case.

“So,” Chris said, breaking the silence finally. “What now? What do we do until this ‘help’ arrives?”

“Sit tight, and wait. Somehow I don’t think this thing is out to ‘get’ Ezra – it could have done that easily last night. But I told Tom the details, and he says the agent they’re sending will be more than able to deal with it – and if it’s the agent I’m thinking of, it’s gonna be interesting, to say the least,” he added with a grin.

“Don’t you think we’re going a little overboard here?” Nathan leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “I mean, only Ezra’s seen this thing, and – no insult intended, Ez, I believe you – but we’re ATF agents. That’s only circumstantial evidence at best, even with the pawprint. Couldn’t we go the ol’ ‘exorcism’ route or something?”

Josiah shook his head.

“Nate, believe me – this thing is more in the B.P.R.D.’s line than a priest’s. I have a feeling this beastie is a lot older than any established religion. It could be anything, but I reckon – seeing as the weathervane came from England – that it’s either Celtic or Norse. Either way, there’s no guarantee it’s going to respond to the ‘bell, book and candle’ approach. We’ll know more when the B.P.R.D. agent arrives, okay? Oh, and Ez isn’t the only one to have seen it.”

That brought a start of surprise from his friends.

“Who? Have you seen it, Josiah?” Buck’s cobalt eyes sparked with shock.

“Nope. Heard it though … last night, just as I was dropping off to sleep. Snuffling and padding around the house. Thought I was dreaming until I saw that paw print.” Josiah looked at Chris. “Have you seen Diablo?”

Larabee thought for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

“Now you mention it, no.”

Josiah nodded.

“He’s under Ezra’s bed. And the reason he won’t step outside is because he knows what’s out there, just as the horses did last night. You thought the old fella was gettin’ rheumaticky, when all that’s bothering him is pure fear. But you knew that already, didn’t you Ez?”

Standish ducked his head, unwilling to let his friends see the unhappiness in his face.

“Indeed, Josiah, I did. Poor old fellow’s been keeping me company a lot lately – neither one of us has much intention of stepping out of the house after dark. Or during daylight, now you mention it!” He smiled despite himself.

“So, what do we do?” Vin queried. “I mean, it don’t make sense for Ez to hang around here for a week – can he go home? I mean, this thing ain’t gonna follow him, is it?”

Josiah shrugged.

“I have no idea. Ezra, I think you ought to stay with me for the week. I’d stay with you but you don’t even have the linen for your spare bed unpacked yet – but there’s no rush - it’s only been a couple of years,” he added, a slight trace of sarcasm in his deep baritone.

Ezra let his smile dimple into a wry grin.

“I’m not even going to argue with you Mister Sanchez, not on this point. I have absolutely no intention of staying here, but I must admit to feeling a little apprehensive about being alone. Your offer of accommodation for the week is most gratifying, I can assure you.”

Within minutes it was decided that Ezra would stay with Josiah, and Vin would stay with Chris at the ranch just to help him keep an eye on things. The final decision was that Diablo would be allowed to go and stay with Ezra and Josiah at the latter’s old town house – Chris couldn’t bear the idea of the old dog being terrified any longer than necessary.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Al of the seven were somewhat subdued, and every little squeak of a floorboard or flutter of a dead leaf on the window pane made them jump out of their skins. Just before midnight Chris, Buck and Vin checked the horses, all three men uncharacteristically nervous. But all they found were horses dozing quietly in their stalls and a couple of mice scurrying out of the sudden glare of the flashlight.

At midnight they all retired to their beds. In the morning Ezra would call in at his apartment with Josiah, pick up a change of clothing and then head into work. Until this mysterious B.P.R.D. agent arrived, Ezra would not be alone other than during a trip to the bathroom.

The others retired to their rooms, and left Vin to bunk down in front of the fire, as he always did. Just before he slipped into the warmth of his bedroll, Vin wandered over to the window to draw the curtains. Peering outside into the once-more starkly bright moonshine, he gazed at the barn. There, on the roof, stood the weathervane, silhouetted against the huge, autumn moon, the enormous metal dog stretched out along his iron bar. The huge holes that denoted his eyes glimmered with the brilliance of moonlight, lending the thing an almost unearthly glow. The very slightest of breezes suddenly whispered in the cold night, and the weathervane turned a fraction on its axis. Vin shuddered. The dog was looking at him. His mind kept telling him it was nothing but an old piece of metal cut into the shape of a huge hound, but in his heart ... he felt his skin chill in the most irrational fear he had ever known, and Vin Tanner was not a man who frightened easily.

Shivering, he hurriedly drew the curtains and slid into his bedroll. But as he lay there in the dark, watching the glow of the fire, his mind couldn’t let go of the image of a huge, black hound, enormous eyes watching him with something that could not be anything else but pure evil.

Ezra awoke blearily in the cold, wee hours of the morning, As he lay flat on his back under the blankets, he listened intently. At first he could hear nothing ... and then came the faint sound of scratching below the windowsill at the side of the bed. Something was outside. It was just on the other side of a fairly thin wooden wall.

“Can you hear it?” Josiah’s whispered words almost made Ezra jump out of his skin.

The undercover agent swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry with fear, and his reply was nothing more than a croak.

“It ... it’s outside the window.”

Ezra glanced over at the sofa bed. Josiah was also lying on his back, and Ezra could just make out the gleam of his eyes in the dark. The room was bitterly cold.

The sounds changed from a scratching to a low grumbling growl, softening to a groaning snuffle as the unknown thing outside searched around the edges of the window.

“It’s trying to get in,” Ezra whispered. “Dear God ... it’s trying to get in here.”

The sound turned to the frenzied scrabbling of claws against the glass, and Ezra felt his bones turn to water. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move at all.

“Josiah!” Ezra gasped out the name.

“It can’t get in, Ez, I’m sure of it.” But as Josiah eased out of the bed and slid his gun from the holster hanging on the back of the chair beside the bed, the scrabbling stopped. Then came an almost human whine of frustration, and the ominous thud of heavy paws dropping onto the porch floor. Josiah gave a relieved, toothy grin, shining white in the darkness. “It can’t cross the threshold.”

The creature turned away from the window, and Ezra heard the soft, ponderous pad … pad … of huge feet as it moved around the house to the front door. It was gone.

Ezra lay still tucked under his blankets, his body rigid with tension, but Josiah’s reassuring presence began to allow him to relax.

“You okay, Ezra?” Josiah’s soft, comforting baritone echoed in the room, and Ezra noticed the temperature has risen – Josiah’s breath didn’t plume frostily in the air anymore. He nodded, his movements still jerky with fear.

“Better now. Has it gone, do you think?”

Josiah patted Ezra’s blanketed shoulder once more in reassurance and slipped his gun back in its holster. As he sat on his bed and ran long fingers through his short curls, he allowed the tension in his muscles to ease before he went back to his bed. At least the creature could not enter the house –

Bang!!! BANGBANGBANG!!!!

The whole fabric of the house shook as something heavy battered against the front door, heaving, groaning chewed growls roared through the still night, the tearing sound of claws on wood sounded so loud Josiah thought the door was being wrenched off its hinges.

Then came a flurry of unmistakeably Texan curses, and shots rang out loud through the night, three of them in quick succession, ripping into planking and something solid beyond.

Josiah leapt to his feet, gun once more out of its holster, Ezra fumbling his way out of his blankets and reaching for his own weapon. He heard voices from the room next door and knew Buck and JD had been shaken by the furore. Larabee and Jackson couldn’t be far behind.

But then there was nothing but silence for what was only at most a second or two, but which to the two agents seemed to be forever.

And then came a sound that Josiah swore he would never be able to forget in a lifetime.

The howl of a great hound soared into the night sky, ringing high to the winking stars above. It was a sound of such loneliness, such heartbreak, that Josiah’s heart sang with a sorrow he did not believe could have existed in this world. His mind was swept with images of distant mountains and frozen peaks … but there was something more. A savage need filled him, a need to hunt, to kill … a need to follow his prey until the world’s end and beyond, until the endless realms of mankind fell and were lost forever.

As the howl died away and the presence of the thing outside faded and disappeared, Josiah blinked. Another sound came. It was another howl, but now it was one of mourning, of great sadness. But it was an earthly sound, the howl of a real animal.

Diablo.

Diablo was howling, his voice rich with the song of his long-dead ancestors, echoing the pain of the creature that haunted them. It came from the hallway … from where the shots had been fired.

“Oh no ... VIN!”

Josiah hefted his gun and headed at a run towards the hallway, his heart clenching in fear at what horrors he might find.

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