The Essence of Darkness Read online

  Farther on, he turned on his professional cell phone and started the jamming program. Undetectable by satellites, he was able to navigate with the GPS map that indicated that he was five miles from Bradford, a small town similar to St. Marys. His phone started to vibrate. He had received twenty-six calls in the past twenty-four hours, no doubt from the agents responsible for finding him, trying to locate his position. Of course, they hadn’t left any messages. Supervisor Mullay had tried to reach him twice and had left him a very clear message. The tone was harsh, leaving no other options.

  “Cooper, you have always been the pride of our services. I myself recently spoke to the director about the unquestionable efficiency with which you carried out your last missions. No one here can explain why you would go on such a rampage. Until we find you so you can explain your reasons, if you even can, I hereby relieve you of your duties. For your own interest, I advise you to turn yourself in immediately at the nearest police station.”

  At least that was clear. He felt the Bureau would make no effort to understand what had really happened that night. They would hush up the matter and most likely institutionalize him in a special facility for life. He checked the local press online and wasn’t surprised to see that no article mentioned the events.

  He went on to the next message in his voicemail. Grandmother Kanda’s voice was so full of emotion that it made him flinch with pain.

  “Eliott, my boy, I hope you’re all right. I’m so worried. Last night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. All my thoughts were with you. In spirit, I saw you in those forests. You were in terrible pain. Oh, my God, I hope nothing bad has happened to you! Let me know how you’re doing as soon as you can. I love you with all my heart.”

  The sadness and fear that permeated her every word poured over him like an icy stream. It was impossible to call her back now. The Bureau was surely tapping her phone.

  The last two calls were from the same number, Lauren Chambers, a young recruit he had trained and with whom he had a kind of relationship. She had been his partner during her “real operation” training, the baptism of fire that turned recruits coming out of the classrooms into experienced, effective agents.

  That was five years ago. They had spent two weeks of green hell in the valleys of Boca de Patía in Colombia, stalking racketeers associated with the powerful Medellín cartel. They’d released the twelve family members of Carlos Mora—a big deal industrialist in Colombian petrochemicals—unharmed after long and costly negotiations. Agent Lauren Chambers, then only twenty-four years old, had shown great composure and control. Her abilities were above average for female recruits. They had had a fling during the course of that mission. They had seen each other again afterward and still did when they could.

  Her first message was silent; he guessed she had been reluctant to talk to the voicemail. He played the second one.

  “Hi, Eliott, it’s Lauren. I know . . . Well, I heard from other people about the events that ended your mission on the St. Marys case. I’m contacting you because I’d like to understand what really happened. I don’t think you’re capable of such madness. I’m leaving you a secure number where you can reach me. Don’t hesitate to call me back.”

  “A secure number,” he repeated to himself as he opened the attachment. It was a cell phone number. She was ready to help him.

  The way things were just then, it wasn’t feasible for him to meet in person with her or anybody else. He suddenly realized a simple blood test might tell him as much, if not more, about the nature of the evil he was carrying in his body as the translation of the grimoire. The problem was that he’d have to approach medical personnel to take blood samples.

  He resumed his walk along a path that ran along the sparse top of a hill. Farther down in the distance were the first homes in the small town of Bradford. The hospital was easy to reach on foot from the woods without anyone seeing him. He hid his backpack and everything that would be of no use to him in the underbrush. Then he took off his work clothes and dressed like a typical, perfectly anonymous citizen in corduroy hiking pants and a quilted jacket. It was one p.m. It was very likely he could get an appointment for a blood test that afternoon. He would have to take his chances on exposing himself to hospital staff, but he had no choice.

  8

  The waiting room of the laboratory services department was almost empty except for a paunchy man in his thirties. He was mindlessly turning the pages of all the magazines on the coffee table with a distinct lack of interest.

  A young brunette woman in a white coat appeared in the doorway.

  “Mr. Bennett?”

  Cooper nodded and stood up.

  “Please follow me.”

  He had held on to the professional identities he had created for use on his missions. Harold Bennett was one of them, the only one he had never used before. The other four were unusable. FBI search software would have instantly located him if he had presented himself at the hospital entrance under any of those aliases.

  The nurse led him to an office and invited him in.

  “The doctor will see you now.”

  “Just a minute, ma’am. I never asked to be seen by a doctor. I came for blood work.”

  She looked at him, eyes wide, and then glanced at the forms in the folder she was holding.

  “Mr. Bennett, is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “You said a wild dog bit you, and that’s what made you decide to have a blood test. The doctor is going to see you. That’s standard procedure, sir.”

  She waved him into the office with a sparkling smile. He returned the courtesy, annoyed by the clumsy pretext he had made up at the hospital entrance.

  “Hello, Mr. Bennett. Please come this way.”

  The doctor, a tall, affable man with gray hair and bright blue eyes, welcomed him into his office and pointed to an examination table.

  “Hello, Doctor.”

  “Take off your clothes and lie down.”

  He did so, revealing the many bruises on his body. The doctor studied him carefully from head to toe.

  “All right, tell me all about it.”

  “While I was hiking in the hills, a stray dog attacked me.”

  “Okay, let’s take a look.”

  The doctor pulled on white latex gloves and bent over Cooper’s left hip where a large scratch had turned into a bluish bruise.

  “He really got you good.”

  The doctor placed his hands on the wound. When he did so, a sharp pain made Cooper jump. An icy sensation gripped his guts and twisted them inside his belly.

  He controlled himself as best he could and gave almost nothing away.

  “Doctor, I would like to have a complete blood analysis as soon as possible and then, while we’re at it, an analysis of all the rest.”

  “All the rest? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “The rest of my system. I’ve read a lot about certain types of infections. I’d like to be sure I don’t have a form of virus not yet listed in your manuals.”

  The doctor held up his hands as a sign of appeasement.

  “You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Bennett. You’re in a hospital. If you have a serious infection, we’ll find the cause, and we’ll treat it. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” he concluded with a friendly smile.

  Cooper took a deep breath to calm himself down. He was starting to lose patience. He couldn’t stay in this hospital for any length of time.

  “Look, Doctor, I’m a businessman, and I’m up to my neck in work right now. I can’t allow myself the slightest health problem; do you understand? My company’s going to sign a big contract with a client in New York, and I need to be there this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon? I’m afraid you’ll have to postpone your meeting until tomorrow. That would be wiser.”

  Cooper pressed on. “That’s absolutely impossible!”

  The doctor gestured that he could get dressed. Cooper went to his jacket and pull
ed out his wallet.

  “Doctor, if it’s about money,” he said, pulling out a wad of bills, “I can pay, but I absolutely must have a full examination this afternoon.”

  The doctor thought twice as he looked at the cash Cooper was waving under his nose.

  Bingo.

  “Let’s say that, given the circumstances and your concerns, I can try to free up the necessary staff for your tests this afternoon. But there will be additional fees, of course.”

  “Perfect,” Cooper exclaimed with relief. “Name your price.”

  They went back and sat down at the desk. The doctor picked up the phone.

  “Anna, prepare room two for taking a blood sample. I’d also like you to put in an emergency call to my assistant. Thank you.”

  He hung up slowly, observing Cooper intensely. Cooper felt the doctor was asking himself questions—too many questions.

  “Mr. Bennett, tell me about this dog. Did it look sick to you? Was it shaking or foaming at the mouth?”

  “Everything happened so quickly, at the bend in a trail. The animal leaped at me and attacked me violently, as if it had been lying in wait. I didn’t have time to see it clearly. It was a big black dog; that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Did you experience any pain as a result of this attack? Any fever? Swelling?”

  Cooper couldn’t tell him everything, but he had to say enough to get him intrigued by his case.

  “I’ve had weird feelings ever since, Doctor, like things crawling under my skin. And I have severe stomach pains.”

  “Things crawling under your skin?” the doctor asked with astonishment, raising his eyebrows.

  The intercom on the desk beeped.

  “Dr. Monroe, room two is ready,” said a clear voice.

  He pressed the button on the phone without looking away from Cooper.

  “Very good. Thank you, Anna.” He stood up and addressed Cooper. “Come with me; we’ll start with a first round of blood tests.”

  The doctor’s last words resonated strangely in Cooper’s head, like a deep echo that triggered subtle jolts inside him.

  They left the office and walked along a long corridor bathed in synthetic neon light. Violent convulsions suddenly shook Cooper. His head felt caught in a vise that had tightened in only a few seconds. He grabbed the bar that ran along the corridor so he wouldn’t collapse.

  “Hang in there,” said the doctor, holding him up as far as the blood-sampling room.

  He helped Cooper go in and lie down on a reclined chair. As soon as Cooper sat down, even more violent spasms seized him, and he began to vomit a brownish liquid: two-day-old hemoglobin. The stench of the thick stream spreading across the blue carpet visibly nauseated the doctor. He gagged, quickly put on a mask and gloves and called for backup on the intercom.

  “Anna, can you come to room two right away? It’s an emergency!”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The neon lights in the room began to flash as if magnetic interference affected them.

  The doctor pressed the phone’s button again.

  “Anna, call my assistant again and tell him to get in here at once. It’s extremely urgent.”

  “Anna?”

  On edge, the doctor punched the call button with his index finger.

  All communication was dead.

  The room now alternated between the flashing neon lights growing more faint and total darkness.

  When the doctor turned to his patient, what he saw between two flashes of light made him shudder.

  The thing stood before him.

  It was no longer Harold Bennett. It wasn’t even human.

  The doctor had no time to scream. Only a muffled cry came from his throat when the creature grabbed him with one hand and raised him off the ground to the level of its horribly jagged mouth. The doctor tried to get free by pounding it with desperate blows, his legs flailing in empty space. Between flashes of light, the doctor’s eyes bulged from the pressure of the icy grip on his neck. The thing’s blackish jaw opened wide, and teeth as long as ebony daggers closed over the doctor’s skull.

  The smell of asphalt filled Cooper’s nose. A deafening clamor assaulted his eardrums. He raised his head and saw a blinding glow approaching at full speed. He had just enough time to jump out of the way of the huge vehicle.

  “Fucking nutjob!” the truck driver shouted out the window as he drove past without even slowing down.

  Like a stray animal, Cooper crawled to the thicket lining the road and disappeared into it. He continued to make his way through the wild grasses and brambles that scraped his naked skin. He reached a field and staggered across it, not knowing if he was heading in the right direction. When he thought he was far enough from the city, he leaned against a tree and dropped to the ground, exhausted. He regained consciousness as night was falling. In the distance, he could see the lights of the town coming on one by one. The streets of Bradford were calm, probably as usual.

  The images of what had followed his metamorphosis in the hospital’s blood-sampling room had come back to him in flash while he was unconscious. The doctor’s face. Then the nurse’s. The taste of their flesh. The consistency of their bones. Nausea overcame him, as he had expected. He returned to nature the life he had taken from her, in the form of chewed flesh and blood mixed with his own digestive juices. He understood the reason for this systematic vomiting: his body couldn’t digest what the thing was putting in his stomach. When he regained his human form, his stomach expelled all its content.

  The night was now spreading its darkness over the valleys; there were no stars scattered in the cloudy sky. He concluded that another storm was about to pour down on the area, maybe during the night. He had to find the thicket where he’d hidden his belongings. His legs, and especially his feet, hurt from climbing the rocky slopes full of thorny bushes. Nevertheless, he felt no muscle fatigue, and the pain in his joints had largely subsided. He realized that he was recovering much faster than after his first transformation.

  After wandering for a long time, he finally found the trail that had brought him to Bradford. It was such a relief to find his bag. Finally, he could drink and then devour his last two energy bars. He put on warm clothes and lit his stove to prepare a hearty soup to revive him. Once he had regained his strength, he took stock of the situation. According to the weather reports, severe storms threatened the region for the next three days. If he started out now, he might manage to avoid the bad weather. A new text message from Lauren Chambers appeared in his inbox:

  Hi, Eliott. I left you a message two days ago, but no answer. I don’t believe for a second what the other agents are saying about you. Nobody really had any information about what happened. I just hope you’re doing okay. If you need help, I’m here for you.

  After their love affair during their mission in Colombia, strong bonds had developed between them. Getting involved in a long-term relationship wasn’t an option, especially with a partner. Besides, the Bureau didn’t recommend it. They both agreed that their affair would remain a secret. But within the FBI, there was no such thing as secrecy. That didn’t keep them from seeing each other again. They were extremely compatible on almost every front. Chambers was a great woman who enjoyed life to the fullest. Pure energy was the term that best described her. This overflowing life might be her only flaw. A flame animated Chambers, one Cooper found in himself, except that his had weakened over time. Every time they saw each other again, she revived in his heart the enthusiasm he had lost for many things.

  She might help him cure the evil that had possessed him. But how? First, he would tell her about the incredible events he had experienced since the beginning of his investigation. Then the metamorphosis. Would she still believe he was sane? Assuming she trusted him, they would only be able to communicate by telephone. It would be impossible for him to have physical contact with her. So how could she help him? She would be his go-between. He would give her the book so that she could take it to Sir Wilbur—the Ro
chester paleography expert—to translate, and then she would try to help him find a way to put an end to this evil spell.

  He thought about her with deep affection. They lived a passion punctuated with periods during which they never saw each other, but their interactions were intense, like that mission in the Colombian jungle. Circumstances like that created strong bonds. They had only seen each other a few times during the year, but enough to keep their feelings alive. Her support would be healing, like a balm of hope, beyond the practical help she could give him. He imagined her delicate face, the silky brown curls that cascaded over her shoulders, her beautiful green almond eyes, and her irresistible smile. He took his phone and dialed her number.

  She picked up after the fourth ring. This meant she was fine.

  “Hey, Lauren. It’s Cooper.”

  There was a two-second silence.

  All she said was, “Eliott.”

  There was no emotion, no particular tone. As a good special agent, she had perfect control.

  “I need help, Lauren.”

  “You’re going to have to give me your version of the facts,” she immediately replied.

  He could tell she was listening very closely.

  “I’m guessing you heard some horrible things.”

  “About three young women devoured alive. And the remains of a child they couldn’t identify. According to the internal report, you’re the one responsible. That’s what I heard.”

  He answered her calmly.

  “The facts are correct; I’m not contradicting them, Lauren.”

  He expected her to react to these words, one way or another, but she didn’t say a thing. He sensed that she was holding back and understood she was waiting for him to continue. So he did.

  “I’m going to ask you to believe me, even if what I’m about to tell you is completely crazy. Something, like a dark force, took control of my body to commit these acts. I wasn’t the one who ate those three young women, let alone the child!”

  There was a long silence, time enough to absorb the shock.

  He heard her swallow. Then she cleared her throat.