Stephen Randel - The Chupacabra

“Move it,” Avery said as he brushed past the little white dog and headed for his room. Max sniffed the strange odor emanating from the ice chest as Avery barged past him. Following Avery down the hall, Max stuck his pug nose under the door that Avery had closed behind him. After taking a few short whiffs, Max sneezed and shook his head before returning to bed with Bennett.

Inside the dimly lit room, Avery pushed the cooler into the corner and threw a blanket over it. Then he stashed the money sack under his bed. Firing up his computer, he pulled up the “MonsterTruthersMessageBoard” and logged in as NinjaMan. HammerheadSam and Cannibal520 were in the chat room.

From: NinjaMan – I found it!

From: Cannibal520 – Found what?

From: NinjaMan – A chupacabra corpse!

From: HammerheadSam – OMG! No way. For real?

From: NinjaMan – Real.

From: Cannibal520 – Post a picture!

From: NinjaMan – Not yet. I need to work out my strategy for getting this discovery out to the press. I’m not sure if I should do Sixty Minutes or Good Morning America first.

From: HammerheadSam – Try The View first. It’ll blow those chicks’ minds. LOL.

From: NinjaMan – I’ll consider it, but I’m not sure about their scientific or journalistic integrity. Until then, don’t speak of this to anyone outside the group, and watch out for the black helicopters. Logging off now.

Avery shut down his computer. Stumbling toward his small bed, he fell face first onto the mattress. He was sound asleep instantly.

Later that morning, in an El Paso–area hospital room, Agent Maria Diaz woke up as she heard the sound of her partner fumbling with the tubes connected to his arm.

“Hank, take it easy,” she said as she rose to her feet and placed her hand on Hank’s to stop him from pulling the tubes out.

“Get this junk off me,” Agent Hank Martin said, his voice groggy.

“Nurse,” Agent Diaz called into the hallway as she sat on the edge of Hank’s hospital bed and held his hand still. “Settle down, partner. It’s going to be all right. You’re in the hospital. Your leg is in pretty bad shape, but the doctor says you’ll be back in the saddle in no time.”

“Well, good morning, Agent Martin,” the nurse said as she entered the small room. “Let’s make sure you didn’t do anything naughty here.” She checked his tubes and monitors. “You just rest a little. The doctor will be in shortly to take a look at you.”

“I don’t need a damn doctor,” said Hank. “What I do need are my boots and gun. There’s a big Mexican I need to have a little private conversation with.”

“Well, that may need to wait a little while, agent,” the nurse said as she made a note on his bed chart. “You’re going to have to stay off that leg of yours for a while until you’re healed up.”

“Only need one good one,” Hank replied gruffly.

“Is that so?” a senior-looking border patrol agent asked as he entered the room. “By God, Hank, you’re a hell of an agent, but you really don’t know when you’re licked.”

“He’s right, Hank,” said Maria. “Listen to the boss.”

“I’m not sitting around in here while the bastard that shot me and my partner is running loose out there,” Hank protested.

“Well, he might not be running as fast as you think,” the senior agent replied. “Got a call last night from a Billy Willingham. Also goes by the name of one Private Zulu. Belongs to that militia group you ran into out in the desert. Says he found a body in their headquarters down around Tornillo. I just came from downtown with the report.”

“Was it a big Mexican?” Hank asked.

“Well, he used to be pretty tall at some point in his life,” the senior agent replied. “Seems to have been shortened recently by about the length of his head.”

“Was he a bodybuilder?” Maria asked.

“I imagine he preferred to spend his free time in tattoo parlors rather than gymnasiums,” the senior agent replied as he took a stack of crime scene photos from a manila envelope and handed them to Agent Diaz.

“That’s not our guy,” Maria said as she examined the photos of the headless man covered in tattoos. “Did you get a chance to interview Private Zulu about what might have happened?”

“Yeah, we questioned him a little,” the senior agent explained. “He was really shaken up, but said he was there to meet an Avery Pendleton from Austin about some kind of dead dog he found in the desert. Says Pendleton wasn’t there when he showed up, but that the dog was gone. We’ve got all sorts of prints and forensics from the place, but it’s going to take some time getting them sorted out. The militia’s got seven members that spend a lot of time in the building.”

“Did he mention anything about the drugs those mules in desert were carrying?” Hank asked.

“Nope,” the senior agent replied. “The dogs picked up the scent of narcotics in the building, but we didn’t find anything. The EMTs sedated Private Zulu before we could get much more on the drugs. He should be calmed down in a few hours, and then we can sweat him pretty good. We’re trying to round up the rest of his group right now for questioning. I’ve got a feeling these boys stumbled into something with the cartels. If your report of those mules carrying drug parcels was correct and the big Mexican shooter took off without them after he shot you two, then we’ve still got a shipment floating around somewhere. Wouldn’t be at all surprised if your big boy is out there looking for it right now. Or, maybe even has it already.”

“Additionally, we found two dead men in a jeep not far from your shoot-out. They were most likely cartel soldiers. Looks like they were ambushed. It was a professional job. They could have been waiting to meet the shipment. And, if that’s not enough for you, we also had another body turn up in a motel closet just outside of town. Traveling salesman. He registered a car with New Mexico plates with the front desk when he checked in, but the car is gone. I’ve got a bulletin out to watch for it. Don’t know if they’re all connected, but if they are, your guy doesn’t seem to have a problem leaving bodies in his wake.”

“Sounds to me like either the shooter has the drugs or this Pendleton fellow does,” said Maria. “Do we know where to find Pendleton?”

“Sure do,” said the senior agent. “Got an Austin address for him. Lives with his elderly stepfather. The Feds are running the show regarding this pile of bodies we’ve got, but we’re still on the narcotics angle. I was wondering if you felt up to paying him a visit later today?”

“Love to,” said Maria.

“Your wing okay?” The senior agent pointed to the sling on Maria’s arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. “How soon can you get me to Austin?”

“Working on setting up a flight right now.”

“Hell, no,” interrupted Hank. “She can barely shoot right-handed, much less southpaw.”

“Shut up, Hank,” Maria replied. “I’m good to go, boss. I don’t plan on shooting him, just questioning him.”

“I know,” the senior agent said. “We’ll have local P.D. meet your flight and escort you to Pendleton’s house.”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?” Hank complained loudly.

“Nothing,” Maria and the senior agent said in unison.

“Good afternoon, students,” the middle-aged tai chi master in a loose-fitting blue robe greeted his students. “My name is Master Wu, and I’m delighted to have you attend my Tai Chi for Beginners class.” Polly, Jolene, Miss Pearl, and Big and Little Esther stood in their robes and flat-soled shoes near the back of the room in their local YWCA. “Today,” Master Wu continued, speaking to his handful of students, “we’ll be working on mastering three basic tai chi movements: Beginning, Parting the Wild Horse’s Mane, and White Crane Spreads its Wings. Over time, as you master these movements, we’ll continue with an additional twenty-one movements, known collectively as the Twenty-Four Forms. Now, the first thing I’d like you to do…”