The First

Chapter 9

The song "Private Eyes" blared from his iPhone, ending his nap. He'd usually shut his eyes for an hour or so in the late afternoon. Ross rolled over and picked up the phone. Several texts from his superiors stated Dr. Mason had been given the level five clearances she needed from the F.B.I, C.I. A., N.S.A and Interpol. Apparently, she's very connected. Now she would be able to leap into her research head first.

His GPS program showed the newborn's whereabouts. Red dots blanketed the screen. Not just in the United States. Each continent started to fill with the dreaded red dots.

A double beep from his cell phone signaled he'd received an email and with it Salem's finest had sent him digital footage from Salem Hospital's security cameras. Unbelievable ...couldn't describe the carnage in the video. The video reminded him of a scene from a horror movie. Reality hit with why he had headed down to the hospital, to get a better feel for the devastation and see if he couldn't bring Dr. Mason a DNA sample. The sheriff's department might have had jurisdiction, but, the F.B.I. owned this one and he had to make his presence known. He would gather all the intelligence the sheriff's department had on the creature they had named "Baby Staten."

Ross pulled the government-issued black Lincoln Navigator into the emergency room parking lot.

An officer stopped him.

"F.B.I." He flashed his badge.

"Park it over there." The young man pointed to a parking space next to an ambulance. He clicked a radio on his shoulder. "Sheriff, feds are here."

A series of profanities spewed from the young deputy's radio as Ross pulled into his designated parking spot. Through the double doors of the E.R. strode the sheriff and several deputies. Ross took a deep breath and jumped out of the rig, fastening the top button of his black sports jacket. He'd dealt with many a sheriff's department and wasn't in the mood for attitude.

A large man who looked of Asian descent led the pack. The Sheriff looked as if he'd had one too many beers and slept in his shirt. His goatee fluffed around his mouth as if he'd just eaten a big black cat. The beer belly hung over the top of his service belt, covering the top of his Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum. Ross wondered why he carried such an archaic gun.

"Sheriff?" Ross held out his hand.

"Lawson." The sheriff shifted his belt, hiking it up his waist, ignoring Ross's hand. "Now you listen to me uh ..." He cocked a bushy eyebrow.

"Agent Harris."

"Harris ..."

"Agent." Ross glowered.

Sheriff Lawson pulled a long off-white handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose. He folded it in half and patted the sweat from his brow under his large cowboy hat. "I got things under wraps here, sent all the forensics to the labs in California. We don't need the feds comin' in here and gummin' up the works. My best detectives are on this thing like powder on a doughnut. We think we got a bead on where the little monster went and my best guys are on it, so don't come in here thinking you're gonna overtake my investigation and bring in your own people. If that's the case, then I'll get on the phone with my good friend Senator Smith and he'll have a thing or two to say, I shit you not."

Ross waited with his hands deep in his pockets. His toes tapped inside his black suede shoes. "Are you finished, sir?" He hoped the tirade had ended.

"Don't ask me if I'm finished, boy. I'll let you know when I'm finished."

"Very well." Ross tapped his toes as he waited impatiently.

The sheriff looked around at his deputies and sighed. "Okay...I'm finished."

"I'm not here to take over anything. We've got one of the top geneticists in the world working on this up at OHSU."

"I heard that place is a wreck." The Sheriff's chew smacked the road.

"Yeah, four births in the first few hours and a dozen dead, at least."

"So ... your doctor. He know what these things are?"

"She's working on it. That's why I need tissue samples or any blood samples that you might have."

"Like I said, all that shit went to forensics in Cali to be examined."

"You'll let me know when you get the results and kindly ship us any leftovers?"

A female deputy got on her tip-toes to say something in the sheriff's ear. The massive man towered over the petite girl.

Sherriff Lawson turned. "You might want to come with me Agent Hammons."

"Harris. Agent Harris." What a moron.

"Whatever." The sheriff scoffed. "The janitor found something in the hospital venting system you're going to want to see."

"Lead on." Ross unbuttoned his jacket and unsnapped the strap on his Glock.

The group followed the deputy into the hospital and piled into the elevator. Panicked, Ross searched for the license on the wall giving the weight capacity. He found it under the button the deputy pushed with a large B on it. Phew, luckily they couldn't weigh more than the maximum.

The elevator dinged, doors opened, and the group filed into a long narrow hallway.

"The cafeteria's this way." The deputy led them down the left corridor.

Ross's insides churned. What exactly had they found? He hoped something tangible he could take to Dr. Mason. What did she say her first name was? He couldn't remember.

They marched into the cafeteria. The room, polka-dotted with empty tables had a large section of the kitchen cordoned off with police tape. Chalk drawings of three bodies on the blood-stained linoleum made him pause for a second. One looked half the size of the others. Poor kid. Never had a chance.

A short, paper-thin man wearing a white lab coat strolled over to them. "The janitor found the specimen over there." He pointed at a section of the rectangular air duct system which followed a serpentine path over the kitchen. Part of it had been removed. Next to it stood a large man in coveralls. Ross figured him for the janitor the lab rat had been talking about.

"I didn't want to move it or bag it until I showed it to someone. Damnedest thing I ever saw." The janitor squinted over his glasses into the duct system.

Ross braced himself for what he might find in the metal box.

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