In Four Days (Saga Two – Part Two)

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DAY TWO…

“Chad! Chad, please!  I need a gun!”  Khirov had called again and left a voicemail.  It was almost 2 am.  I was at Sandra’s apartment so I hadn’t picked up the call this time.  Unlike last night, he was hysterical and most of the message was garbled in gibberish or sobs.

He ended with “I have to reach you so I will keep trying all night if I must.”  The tone was desperate and driven.  I sighed with frustration and dread — deep down I had a feeling that he was going to call me again.  Something about his story had not set well with me and my instincts were telling me that a nasty storm was on the horizon.

I slipped out of bed, being careful to not wake her up and tiptoed into the kitchen.  I wanted a coffee and a bit of Baileys to stiffen it up.

He answered the call on the first ring.

“Where are you? Where were you?  Can you bring me a gun?”  He flooded me with questions.

“Slow!  Slow down.”

“You have got to help me!  I am not su— I am not sure how much…”  Khirov broke down into more long sobs.

I leaned against the counter and sipped at my mug.  Never been much of an empathetic ear.  I am a fixer versus a listener you might say.

“Are you there?”

“Yes.  I am here.”  I took a drink.

I heard an overhead PA announcement.  Then a male voice asking for a signature.

“Are you alright, Mr. Boulos?  Where are you?”

“I am in the lobby of the ER at Einstein Medical Center.”

“Why?”

“I fell and cut my hands up.”  He then spoke to the other person there, “Yes, yes.  Here is my insurance card.  Can you just bill me for the copayment tonight?”

After a few minutes, Khirov was alone in the lobby. “He came again.”  His words were shaky.

“Who?  The man with the dog?”

“He is not human! Chad, I—”

“Please call me Detective Ellis.”  I was already too close to the man and he seemed to have me on speed dial.  Had to put some distance between us.

He was silent and probably offended.  It was late and at that point, I really didn’t care.  I regret that now.

“I called my brother, Jaleel after we met at the bar.  He still lives in the homeland.  He’s what we call ‘imam’ and he leads a congregation in prayers.  I knew he would understand all of this.  After I told him what I showed you last night, he advised that I should make amends to whom I may have wronged or attrition for my sins.  Jaleel believes that the shaytan jinns are hunters or harvesters.  Or that maybe sometimes they are servants to an even more powerful beings.”

He had my attention now.  “Hmmm.  Really?  That is interesting.”

Like I said before, his story bothered me and the circumstances around it.  That afternoon, I did my own research and came across a recent article in the papers.   A young Hispanic woman had been missing for a month or so.  Disappeared right after our first blizzard.  Police found her apartment broken into and caked in snow and a peculiar mud.  It was the mud that snagged me.   Where would that mud come from in the heart of a snow storm?

There was a link to some blogs that the woman supposedly wrote.  I didn’t get a chance to read them yet.

Further in the article it did state that authorities suspected foul play, but it also might be fraud — the accounting firm where she worked made claims they had found evidence that she had embezzled from them for several months.  Could she be faking her own disappearance in order to avoid police and keep the money?  Or is this connected after all?

“What do you mean?  Do you know something?” He questioned me.

“No, no.  You said you got hurt?”

He paused before answering, choosing his words carefully.  This confirmed my suspicion that he was holding something back.

“After my call with Jaleel, I dug out my Hamsa and put—”

“—Hamsa?”

“A…uh, good luck charm you might say.  Like the lucky rabbit’s foot your people use.”

I laughed at that.  My people…

“I had it on a chain.  It’s of the Hand of Fatima.  She was the daughter of the Prophet Mohammed.    Anyway, I wanted to unwind and needed to go hiking in Washington Square Woods.  Must’ve walked hundreds of miles on those paths over the years.  It was very nice out, a half hour before sunset.  I was listening to music on my phone.  Somehow, I suddenly heard coming through my headphones, ‘Two days left.’  That’s also when it struck me I had gotten off the normal paved trail.  I didn’t even recognize that part of the woods.”

“But you have been there many times you said.”

“Right!  I was confused.  How could I be lost?  As I stood there trying to understand it, I heard a noise up ahead.  Out from the brush, the jinn had returned and had stepped out onto the trail.  He just stood in the center waiting for me to approach.  But I am no fool or hero, I spun around and ran!”

“Was he alone?”

“I thought so at first.  When I looked back, he had come closer — there waiting again!  He’s a demon, Detective Ellis!  I don’t know what I am going to do.”

“A gun isn’t going to stop him, not even with bullets dipped in holy water.”   I joked.

“YOU ASSHOLE!  I AM BEING HUNTED!”  Khirov screamed at me.

I deserved that.  He was right.  I had stopped taking this serious.

After a minute or so he calmed down and started again.  “I ran off the path.  Thought maybe I would lose him in all the trees and scrubs.  But that is when I heard the panting…”

I had pressing questions, but they would only distract him.  I waited for him to finish.

“At first it was behind me, off to the right.  Something big and fast.  It had to be his Rottweiler.  Then I heard more panting to the left behind me.  Then they were everywhere, staying just behind me.  He—HE HAD A PACK CHASING ME!”

He coughed and then cleared his throat.  “I was scrambling as fast as I could.  I couldn’t see as it had gotten dark and the damn things just kept running at me, but never showing themselves.  They herded me like a cow right back to him somehow.   I hit this small clearing and nearly charged right into him.  I skidded to a halt, but fell backwards on my hands.  That’s how I had cut them up.  He towered over me, had to be eight feet tall!  He wore a torn, black jacket I think or something — I remember though seeing his muddy work boots!  They had that mud crusted all over them.  And his face!  Chad, the face had shadows covering his mouth and neck, but the shadows were crawling!!”  His voice cracked and he sobbed a bit.

I heard a man call out to Khirov.  He moaned in reply, “Yes, sorry.  I am fine.  Sorry, I will keep it down.”

“Could you come to the station and have an artist sketch him?”  I felt for the man, even though the whole story was bullshit and filled with delusions.

“NO!  I… you don’t understand.  He wasn’t — isn’t human!   He had no eyes, just three empty eye sockets, one on top of the two.  He leaned over me and whispered into my face,  ‘Wahakadha ‘aydaan yjb ealayk ‘an altahamat!’

.  Then he ripped away my Hamsa chain.  The pack of dogs were howling and barking all at once.  They were crazed and in a frenzy.  When I looked back, he had vanished.”

“What did he say to you?”

“‘Wahakadha ‘aydaan yjb ealayk ‘an altahamat!’ It means ‘And so too you shall be devoured.'”

“You mean he had the dogs attack?”

“No.  Although, they ran me from the park; they circled and chased me for hours, but I only saw their shining eyes.”  He went quiet.  Waited for me to give him a solution.

It was time to press.  “Khirov?  Your brother says these jinns only come for the sinners or for those who have wronged others…  Who did you hurt?  Tell me what you did!”

He hesitated.  I knew he wanted to tell me.  He had built this whole story up in his head so he could confess to me and maybe justify what he had done.

There was silence.  Then there was a dial tone.

Khirov had disconnected the line.