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At night, the edifice came down and the city showed its true form. Edinburgh was a city that only pretended to be sophisticated and modern, at its heart it was still wild and haunted. Detective Sandor Clegane knew this. He’d lived here his entire life and never underestimated the raw power at its core.
The factories were quiet for the evening, yet there was a thick fog that rolled in over the water that had a heavy cling to the air.
The detective stuffed his hands in his pockets to ward off the cold and walked along the cobblestone path toward the shipyard at Leith. A recent investigation at a bar partial to criminal clientele had produced some illegally imported alcohol. The port received hundreds of ships a day, someone must have thought to avoid the liquor tax and hid their shipment. A criminal would most likely use the cover of night to hide his crimes, the detective assumed, which was why he was headed to the docks at this ungodly hour.
There was humidity in the air, as there usually was this close to the water, but it seemed the rain would hold out for now.
Detective Clegane hid among the shadows, taking in the bit of light reflected off the surface of the water. Most of the sailors and longshoremen had retired for the evening. Yet there was a single boat towards the end with oil lamps along the deck to light the way. He headed toward this boat, keeping a distance from the amber glow.
A handful of men worked transporting boxes from the deck to a large wagon hitched up to a horse.
Bingo.
No legitimate business transported cargo at night. It was too dangerous in the dark and they would have had to pay double for the odd hours. Any ship waiting to deliver at night was hiding something.
The detective refused to wear the standard police uniform precisely for situations such as this. With a nondescript black suit and tie, along with a plain bowler hat, he could more easily blend into the background and investigate criminal misdeeds. He watched as the crew continued to load the coach.
One of the young men dropped a box, wooden and dark not unlike a coffin. The crew leader stepped back in horror, barking at the others to follow suit. The older man had grey sideburns and rough hands, likely he had many years experience traveling the seas.
What’s got him so spooked , the detective wondered.
The mystery revealed itself in an instant. A creature screamed and launched its grey and hollow body at the crewmembers. It’s horrible, decayed teeth tore at the tender flesh of their faces and hands, any inch of skin it could claim.
Before the detective could think better of it, he pulled the pistol from his inside jacket pocket and pulled it on the creature. Each of the 6 shots landed clearly in its chest, the last one through the head, which only seemed to anger it more. The creature dropped the bloodied crewmember and turned to face the detective, stepping heavy and unbalanced across the wooden planks.
The detective walked backwards along the path, cobblestones catching at the heels of his black leather boots. If bullets couldn’t destroy it, what could? He caught the glow of a lantern in the corner of his eye. Grabbed and launched it, before his fear consumed him first.
The creature fell back, erupted in flames, which spooked the horse to back up the carriage and separate the thing’s left arm from the rest of his body. The rest of the wooden cargo sparked and the horse bolted down the street, leaving only the bewildered detective, the scorched creature, and the seven recently deceased crew members on the dock.
“Bloody hell.”
~*~
“Dr. Stark, you mean to tell me that man who attacked me is undead?”
“Yes, Detective Clegane, and there’s plenty more just like him.”
The detective had camped outside the coroner’s office the rest of the night, with the arm tucked safely away inside a wooden box and held firmly between both hands. Each time he began to nod off, he shook awake with the fear of the flames nipping at the back of his neck.
The new coroner had been working at the bureau for six months already, but Detective Clegane had not had a reason yet to venture down to the dark creepy basement that reeked of formaldehyde. He had heard the other officers call the Dr. Stark cold, severe, often inhuman. What they hadn’t mentioned was that she was an absolute smokeshow. A stunner with auburn hair and wide clear blue eyes.
Not just a pearl, the whole damn oyster.
When he first met her and shook her hand, it took several long moments before he could formulate coherent sentences and explain what he was doing there before dawn. He blamed the lack of sleep and managed to mumble a few words about how he needed her examination expertise.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“There have been a number of deaths in the city where bystanders have claimed a living corpse attacked, then disappeared. Sometimes they call them the Undead Others. Look under the microscope,” she said. A hand gestured to the contraption situated on the corner of her neatly organized desk.
He looked through the viewfinder and saw large green blobs illuminated by a white background that meant absolutely nothing to him. Forensic pathology was still a new discipline and one he admittedly knew very little about.
“What am I seeing exactly?”
“It’s a tissue sample, red blood cells, but it’s the wrong color. The cell has mutated and changed its shape, notice how the edges are uneven? They’re supposed to be round. It’s necrotic and dead. I’ve found the same tissue sample across a dozen different cases the past few months.”
The explanation was simple enough even with his limited understanding. He nodded and raised back up to look directly at the doctor. The pinkish tint in her cheeks had blanched, she held a pencil in her hand, furiously writing case notes in the new file for his report, no longer looking at him.
“Why haven’t you reported this?”
“I have, Detective Clegane. The Captain thought I was either hysterical or incompetent. Same as the rest of the damn bureau.”
Dr. Stark let out a sigh and crossed her arms across her chest. The detective looked her over and considered the options. If she was dotty or insane, that meant he was too.
“After what I saw last night, I believe you…”
“Finally , I only hope it isn’t too late.