FIC: Renegade (1/3); The Mentalist
Title: Renegade
Disclaimer: I've never owned anything.
Summary: AU. Out in the woods, something sinister is brewing and Cho, unwillingly, becomes the hero. Written for the Mentalist Reverse Big Bang 2013. Inspired by the artwork from agent_era.
Notes: While written for the Mentalist Reverse Big Bang; this also uses a prompt from my H/C bingo card: fighting. Yaaaaay!
Warning: Violence is a part of this fic, as is gore. Haha. Happy early Halloween, I suppose!
The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow’d ground.
Howl, Florence & The Machine
“Our victim is a Jessica McCain, aged twenty-years-old,” Agent Wayne Rigsby explained to Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, who continued to stare down at their exsanguinated victim. With her own black blazer sleeves bunched up to the nook of her elbows, she crouched down next to Jessica and eyed every inch of exposed pale skin. “Time of death is still unknown, as we’re the first on the scene. Sheridan Sheriff, Jean Caribe, tells me that Jessica was well-liked by the entire community and that she couldn’t imagine anyone killing the young girl, especially in the park.”
Kimball Cho pulled his eyes away from Lisbon to glance at Rigsby, who accompanied his sentence with an eye roll. Having already seen Jessica McCain, he could understand the reasons for the eye roll; Jessica was both young and beautiful, two traits that often stirred up some type of possible resentment within a community. Cho half-expected to hear a comment from Patrick Jane regarding the idea that everyone liked Jessica, but nothing came.
“Ah, silence,” Cho heard Lisbon say, lightly. “I never thought I’d be in my post long enough to remember what pre-Jane days used to be like.” He brought his eyes back down to Lisbon, only to find her grinning and relaxed. With Red John finally gone and behind bars, Director Gale Bertram had somehow managed to weasel Jane into taking a two-week vacation. While Cho didn’t exactly care about the circumstances surrounding Jane’s unexpected acceptance, he and Rigsby had overheard some of the interns Jane’s “off-kilter behavior”: “I heard Agent Lisbon told him they couldn’t be together-y’know, sexually-unless he left for two weeks,” Joanna Richards had theorized. Rigsby had given him a quick glance and had shaken his head; eyebrows lifted in amusement. If Lisbon had somehow been involved in Jane’s acceptance and compliance of Bertram’s order, Cho had a feeling that Lisbon would be with Jane instead of with them. “Too bad he’s returning today though. Bertram told me he’d tell Jane to head straight to this crime scene after noon.”
It was already 11:50, which meant they all had ten more minutes without Jane’s infuriating (and sometimes inappropriate) comments.
He continued to watch Lisbon, as she stood from her spot and faced them all with the crossing of her arms before she met his eyes. “Where’s Sheriff Caribe now?”
“She left; something about a disturbance call, boss,” Cho informed her, mirroring her stance. He heard her sigh and he fought to contain a small smirk at her impatience. “She said she’d be back in about…” The sound of someone clearing his or her throat from behind him effectively interrupted him and he turned to find harried Sheriff, Jean Caribe.
“I’m terribly sorry about my lateness, Agents,” Caribe apologized with a slight smile. Cho felt Rigsby’s elbow jab into his ribs, before he turned his stare on the younger agent. After their first encounter with Caribe, prior to Lisbon’s arrival and the disturbance call, Rigsby had sent him a brief text message about how attractive Caribe truly was. Plaited blonde hair, caramel skin and baby blue eyes, Jean Caribe certainly had a level of attractiveness about her that he couldn’t deny, but he just wasn’t interested in her. “I had a situation regarding one of my habitual offenders and our department is small, due to budget cuts.” Cho refocused his attention on Caribe, only to find her studying Jessica’s body with a frown. “We’ve never had a murder in Sheridan, Agents. The most I’ve ever dealt with is missing persons, as people in this town continue to disappear.”
“Any ideas on who might have killed her, Sheriff?” Lisbon asked, ignoring Caribe’s previous statement. Caribe shook her head.
“I wish had some ideas for you, Agent Lisbon, but no. Everyone loved Jessica, truly; she was a bright young woman, who had just accepted her place in some international internship. Jess and her parents were truly looking forward to that.” Cho heard Caribe sigh, his attention still fully on her. “Jessica was a pure and beautiful individual, who put her entire being into worshipping her God. Jess was studying to be our next preacher, after preacher Jonas McGreevy passed on.” He couldn’t figure out if Caribe was actually sad about Jessica’s passing or the idea that someone in her town had died, even after he watched her daub at her eyes with her fingertips. Cho had been around Jane long enough to know that the expression of sadness did not always match up to the dead victim; so either Jean Caribe was an excellent liar or she truly was sad about Jessica’s death. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. We need to catch her murderer…”
“Actually, there is something,” Lisbon interrupted and Caribe’s eyes went to Lisbon. “We need to speak with whoever found the body.”
“Forgive my absent-mindedness, Agents,” Caribe answered. “I happened upon Jessica’s body, due to my daily patrol here. Many teens use those woods,” she motioned behind her toward the Sheridan woods, “to get high and have sex. I was walking along the perimeter of the woods, when I spotted some ravenous activity in the sky.” Caribe took a deep breath. “I stepped closer, believing the object might be a dead animal. However, I wasn’t prepared to find crows and Jessica’s…” Cho watched her press her hand against her mouth and he glanced toward Lisbon. While he had become almost desensitized to the idea of death, especially after seeing the cruel actions from other humans both in the army and on the Serious Crimes Unit, he knew everyone still handled their first dead body differently.
Lisbon nodded. “Thank you. If you need it, you may take a moment to recollect yourself, Sheriff.”
“Thank you, Agent Lisbon,” Caribe replied, before she turned from them and Jessica’s body. “I think I’ll go speak with my deputy.” Cho watched Lisbon shake her head.
“Think she’s lying, boss?” Rigsby asked.
“Why would she be lying about stumbling upon the body?” Lisbon replied, incredulously. “I will remind you, like I constantly remind Jane; not everything is a conspiracy.” Cho said nothing. The idea of yet another dirty cop though, especially after the amount of CBI and FBI agents found helping Red John, made him dislike Rigsby’s question also. Not all cops were dirty or killers; only half of the Sacramento FBI field office, Visualize and the Professional Standards Unit within the CBI was. “Where’s Van Pelt?”
“Trying to find a coroner,” Cho explained, before he watched Lisbon grimace. “Our newest coroner, Dr. Cooper, is apparently already dealing with a narcotic crime scene at the moment.”
“I would believe a homicide would come first,” Lisbon answered and Cho shrugged. It wasn’t the first time that Bertram had prioritized a narcotics death over a serious crime, especially with the lack of funding in hiring coroners. “Tell Officer Pierson and Officer Friendly to stand over McCain’s body, until we can find a coroner.” Rigsby silently slipped away and Cho grimaced. “You’d think Director Bertram would be bending over backwards to help us close cases, but no. His golden boy isn’t here, so why should he do us any favors?”
“Apparently saving him from death gained us no favors,” Cho dryly responded and Lisbon snorted. “When or if Jane shows up, Bertram might send a coroner with him.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s already twenty minutes after noon now.”
“Jane’s tardiness shouldn’t surprise either of us, really,” Lisbon said. “However, I’m surprised Bertram hasn’t called yet.”
“Give him time; he will.” Cho had a suspicion that Bertram would call in the next thirty or so minutes, as the Director kept an extremely close eye on them all. They obviously weren’t Bertram’s favorite unit, but his supposed “supervision” was retribution for being kidnapped at the hands of Red John. “He’ll need to know where Jane is.”
“I don’t even know where Jane is,” Lisbon answered. Cho doubted Bertram would be extremely thrilled with the answer of “I don’t know”, especially when it pertained to the location of Jane. “I suppose I could lie, but Jane keeps telling me that I’m a horrible liar.” He said nothing in response again and she sighed. “You think I’m a horrible liar too, don’t you?” Cho continued to glance at her, quietly. Lisbon and he had been friends for many years and still, he thought she was a lousy liar. Jane had been helping her get better, especially with his involvement in her poker games, but nothing could turn a pure saint into half a sinner. “On second thought, lying seems like a bad idea. He’s my boss.”
Cho nearly rolled his eyes at her words. Bertram probably expected them to lie about Jane’s whereabouts anyway. “Tell him Jane’s gone after an apple, boss.” He watched Lisbon’s mouth open slightly, before the shrill of her phone halted their conversation; her hand went for her pocket and with a quick sigh, she held the phone to her ear.
“Lisbon,” he heard her greet whoever was on the line, before her dark eyebrows furrowed together and her lips grew thin. “What do you mean he’s already here? He never actually showed up to the crime scene, Director.” Cho glanced to Rigsby, who eyed him from a distance of two feet away. “I think I would know what my own consultant looks like, sir. I’ve worked with Jane for almost nine years now; certain features tend to stick out in my…” She paused. “I am not calling you a liar, sir. I am…yes, sir. I’ll ask around.” Lisbon removed her phone from her ear and grimaced. “Jane’s apparently here. Have either of you seen him?”
“I haven’t seen him, boss,” Rigsby answered and Cho shook his head. If Jane had been there, all of them would have heard him. “Is Bertram sure…”
“Positive,” Lisbon replied. “Bertram said Jane came to his office, got the information on where we are and came straight out here.” She continued to furrow her brows, as she glanced around the park. “I don’t see his vehicle, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s possible Jane slipped past us all and went directly into the woods without a word.” Neither one of them could argue with her. Jane enjoyed his secrets and if he thought he could show them all up; he would, just for kicks.
“We’re searching the woods, aren’t we?” Rigsby asked and Lisbon nodded. “Why do I keep wearing new suits on days I have to either search through dumpsters or go hunting for a rogue consultant?”
“It’s truly a mystery,” Cho gave, dryly. Rigsby stared at him and Cho stared back, before he turned toward Lisbon. “Sheridan Forest is small; we could find him in about two hours, if we all search.”
“When Van Pelt was lost…” Rigsby started.
“When Van Pelt was lost,” Lisbon repeated, crossing her arms against her chest. “We had no idea where to begin. Here, we only have about 2.2 square miles to cover and if I know Jane, he’s probably balking at some raccoon by now.” Lisbon rolled her eyes. “We’ll all split up to search for him.” Rigsby opened his mouth and Lisbon shook her head. “No way. If I put you and Van Pelt together, the entire forest population might flee.” Cho watched with amusement as Rigsby closed his mouth and glanced down at his feet. “Cho, take Van Pelt and search the west side of the forest. I’ll take Rigsby and we’ll search the east part of the forest.”
“Yes, boss,” both responded.
Lisbon scowled. “I’m going to kill him.” She motioned for Rigsby to follow her, before she turned back to glance at Cho. “I don’t know how well the cell service will be in the woods, so we’ll just meet up in the center of the woods in about an hour or so.” He nodded again, watching them both disappear into the woods before he turned on his heels and stepped in the direction that Van Pelt had gone earlier.
“Agent?” Cho turned to find Caribe behind him. “Where did Agent Lisbon and Rigsby go?” Although Lisbon hadn’t said to debrief the Sheriff on their situation or on their plan, he figured she hadn’t wanted to keep the Sheridan Sheriff in the dark.
“One of our colleagues snuck into the woods…”
“You mean Patrick Jane?” Caribe asked and Cho nodded. “Mr. Jane asked me if Jessica had a secret hiding place in these woods and I told him I didn’t know.” He watched her frown. “He told me you all knew he was going inside the woods. If I had known…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Cho dismissed her apology with his hand. Even if Caribe had known, Jane still would have slipped past them all and they would still all be searching the woods. “We’ll be back in about three hours.”
“I’ll tell the coroner to send the remains back to Sacramento,” Caribe replied and Cho nodded. “Good luck, Agent.” Caribe shot him a small smile, before she turned away and started back toward her Deputy.
“Good luck for what?” Cho heard Grace Van Pelt ask from behind him, and he motioned for her to follow him. “Is everything okay, Cho?”
“Jane’s lost in the woods. We need to find him, before Lisbon kills him.”
Van Pelt merely chuckled in response. “Lead the way then.”
The eerie silence, aside from the dried leaves crunching beneath their feet, made Cho feel rather uneasy as he and Van Pelt continued deeper into the heavily wooded area. The lack of wildlife or noises reminded Cho of the Blair Witch Project and Cho half-expected a group of three filmmakers following behind them, but from the lack of sounds around them, he knew they were alone.
He heard Van Pelt mutter something, but he ignored her ramblings. She had already tried to start a conversation once or twice, though his focus on the tasks ahead-finding Jane and conferring with Lisbon-had left both of her conversational attempts dying before they truly began. Cho heard her mutter something again and he cleared her throat, only causing her to respond with a question. “Are you sure we haven’t been this way yet?” He didn’t even bother glancing down at his watch to see how long it had been since had first asked this question. Cho said nothing to her. “It all looks the same.”
He almost stopped to glance at her, but instead, he continued past one of the larger trees. Obviously, the woods would look all the same-same trees, same leaves, and same vantage points-unless one looked closely, and Cho was looking closely. He had spent months hiding in wooded areas, back during his time in the army, so none of this bothered him. The Sheridan Woods, however, were much larger than any of them had predicted; and Cho wanted to kick himself for not re-consulting the map Caribe had handed him early on.
“Keep your gun out,” Cho advised. He heard Van Pelt’s hands tug at her holster, as he pulled his own gun out and continued walking. Van Pelt kept quiet, something he was truly thankful for; it wasn’t that he didn’t like her, it was the fact that something felt off about the woods. That feeling made Cho want to turn back, leave, but they had both agreed to meet Lisbon halfway, and if neither of them showed, a larger search party would occur. “If you hear anything, shoot at it.”
Van Pelt probably thought he had lost his mind, although his focus was on trying to get them both out of the woods alive. Cho doubted she thought anything was wrong, and though silence (to him) was the largest indicator that something sinister was at work; he knew Rigsby and Jane would have laughed at his superstitious side, so he said nothing about his concerns and kept walking.
Something rustled the bushes and Cho fired his first shot, without hesitation. The bush fell still and he moved forward, knowing Van Pelt was behind him, probably holding an expression of disgust.
“Shouldn’t we check…?”
“No,” Cho interrupted. “Whatever it was; the thing is dead now.” He just hoped Jane hadn’t been hiding in that bush, as explaining why their consultant was riddled with bullet holes was not, after all, how he wanted to lose his job. Cho heard Van Pelt move toward the bushes, before he heard her exhale sharply. “What?”
“You shot and killed a baby raccoon.”
Cho shrugged. “It shouldn’t have been in our way.” Regardless of how Van Pelt probably felt, her glaring at his back wasn’t going to bring the poor creature back. “Come on. We need to hurry.”
“…maybe we should turn back?” Van Pelt suggested, hesitantly. She looked exhausted, which he paid no attention to; it wasn’t his fault if she weren’t sleeping enough, because of her time with Rigsby. Cho stilled to stare at her, unimpressed. “I’m not frightened. Something just feels off about all of this…”
“We can’t leave him or them out there,” Cho replied. When Van Pelt had been lost out in the woods, they hadn’t just left her there. So why would any of them even consider leaving Jane behind?
“Cho, I’m not suggesting we leave them; I just think someone miscalculated the size of these woods.” Cho crossed his arms against his chest. “By going further in, we might never be found.”
Logically, Van Pelt was right.
However, it still felt wrong leaving anyone in the woods.
Cho turned on his heels and continued walking forward; he heard Van Pelt sigh in frustration behind him. “Do you not agree, Van Pelt?”
“I’ve watched enough horror movies to know better, Cho,” Van Pelt replied, walking behind him still. “Five friends go into the woods; four are murdered and one ends up being chained in a sewer by a knife-wielding maniac, who has secretly fallen for her.”
He nearly snorted at her overactive imagination. “This isn’t Friday the 13th, redone twenty different times. This is reality.” Truthfully, most of the books had read had better plots than that. “Everything will be fine, Van Pelt.” She said nothing to him and Cho rolled his eyes. He only wanted them both to be realistic, as using cheap horror movie plots weren’t going to keep any of them calm or rational.
Cho opened his mouth to warn Van Pelt of his suspicions, when he heard something crunch and a loud, piercing scream break the eerie silence. With his gun still in front of him, he quickly turned only to find Van Pelt on the ground.
“Van Pelt, are you…?” His eyes caught the reason for her screaming almost immediately; her left foot had become ensnared within a bear trap. Cho tucked his gun away and crotched down next to her, spotting the sharp metal jagging through her pale flesh with a frown. “Don’t move.” Van Pelt glanced up at him, a sour expression on her face. “I’m going to call Lisbon. You need medical attention.” Cho pulled out his phone and dialed Lisbon’s number, before he settled his hand on her knee.
“How bad is it?” Van Pelt asked him, her eyes closed. Cho said nothing, as he waited for Lisbon to answer her phone. After the fifth ring and the beginning of her voicemail message, Cho disconnected his phone and glanced back down at her mangled foot. He didn’t want to tell her how bad it was; the doctors, he knew, would take one look at her foot and remove the limb from her body. Cho kept quiet, however, because they both needed to stay focused and Van Pelt needed to stay conscious. “That bad, really?”
“You’ll need medical attention,” Cho confirmed, glancing at her face. “You okay?”
Van Pelt snorted in disbelief. “I’ve had a bear trap sink through my leg and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Her shoulders shook and Cho waited to see how she would react. “You won’t even tell me if it needs to come off or not.”
“I’m a homicide detective, Van Pelt, not a doctor,” Cho avoided her comment. “If you want a doctor’s opinion, we’ll get you one.” She fell back into silence and Cho moved toward her. “I can’t get Lisbon. Do you think you’ll be able to walk, Van Pelt?”
“I can try,” Van Pelt offered, moving to her knees. He watched her try to stand, only to fall back down on her knees and grimace in pain. “It hurts. I can’t.” Cho patted her knee again and she slumped to the ground, her eyes barely opened.
“Van Pelt, you need to stay…”
The sound of something gnawing in the bushes stopped him, as he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it toward the bushes. The bushes rustled again and Cho traced the trigger of his gun with a watchful eye, when it emerged from the bushes. It, Cho noticed as he pulled the trigger and shot several rounds into the lifeless being, had blood red eyes and yellowed teeth; its skin partially decayed and its pure boned arm inching out toward him and Van Pelt.
Van Pelt screamed again, and Cho bend down to yank the bear trap off Van Pelt’s foot. He tried to ignore her screaming, her pleas for an end, as the bear trap finally came loose, and she slumped to the ground unconscious; her mangled foot remained behind, as her newly freed limb coated the right side of his body with red.
It lunged toward Van Pelt again with a moan. Cho pulled Van Pelt from the ground and threw her over his shoulder, before he took off running in the opposite direction. He could hear it in the background trying to follow them both, but he didn’t stop to fire another round.
Cho continued running, until he couldn’t run anymore.
Before his body collapsed due to a lack of oxygen, he moved Van Pelt’s unconscious body from over his shoulder to rest on the forested ground. The coppery scent of blood clung to his body and within his nostrils, as he moved to tear his red-stained white dress shirt aside, leaving his chest bare and exposed to the rapidly chilling night air.
Cho blinked twice. What in the hell had he just seen? He knew that thing couldn’t possibly be alive, but creatures of the dead couldn’t exist...or could they? Cho frowned, crossing his arms against his chilled chest. Everything he had just witnessed went against every logical thought within his head; undead things, he knew, didn’t exist and his eyes had just played an awful trick on him.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t get the sight of its red eyes or decaying flesh out of his head. Whatever he had seen wasn’t just an illusion; the beast he had shot several times was, undeniably, real and he and Van Pelt had almost become lunch for whatever the hell that thing was. Cho felt his insides dangerously twist, and he worked to calm his heaving breaths down; being in the military had prepared him for all sorts of horrors and feelings of guilt, but nothing had quite prepared him for the sight of that or the sudden loss of Van Pelt’s foot.
He avoided glancing at Van Pelt. Maybe he should have listened to her; if he had, she might still have had her entire foot and they wouldn’t be lost within Sheridan Forest either. However, guilt wasn’t going to help either of them, and so, he moved from his knees to focus on keeping them both alive. Although it was dusk, the clearing he had somehow stumbled into was lit just enough to where he could make out the resemblance of a water stream and a tent in the near distance.
“Anybody out there?” Cho called.
Silence was his only response and he slowly moved toward the lone tent; he had to know if anyone was also out here, trying to keep away from the hellish creatures as well. Cho lifted the edges of the tent up and stepped into the dark space. Using the light from his cellphone, he scanned the tent for survivors only to find plenty of canned goods, bottles of water, flashlights, weapons, a fully stocked first-aid kit and a small black journal, displayed atop the first-aid kit.
Cho picked up the small black journal and opened it; small, cursive print flowed on the pages and he flipped through the pages, until the heading of one caught his attention.
To whoever finds this-
My name is Dr. Noah Duncan; I have been in these woods for six weeks, three days and four hours, according to the log I made after my cellphone died. Why am I writing this down? Because whoever finds this book needs to know, they are in grave danger of becoming what roams these forests at night.
I call these things, “Mortuus Vivens”, as I refuse to call these creatures by their American-fied name. These creatures are not the cursed ‘Z’ name; they are, by far, much more sinister than their horror flick companions. They are obviously not God’s creation, but instead the byproduct of a doctor gone mad with the pressures of society. My fellow colleague, who I followed into these woods on a “special assignment” (we were asked to study the migration patterns of the monarch butterfly, again), suggested we set up camp in this exact spot.
We did so and she disappeared, right after. I searched most of these woods for her, only to have discovered that my college was not in these woods for the butterflies. She was in the woods and had brought me along, so I could 1) watch whatever was unfolding and b) so I could eventually die. I accepted my fate without argument, but Dr. Jean Caribe refused to grant my request for a painless death, and she forced me into a twisted game of cat-and-mouse with her creations.
For weeks, I hid. I ate berries, the carcasses of dead animals, and turned to eventually eating my own flesh to stay alive and alert. I am back in this tent now, however, because I am at the end of the life. I know my time has come, so I am using my last remaining time on this earth to expose Dr. Jean Caribe’s master plan and to warn you about her creations.
Dr. Caribe wants to damn the human race, and the only way to do so (in her opinion) is by turning them all into flesh-eating demons. Caribe is a power hungry and manipulative woman, who will do anything to test her experiments until they can be unreleased into the world. That idea, alone, is probably why you’re here right now. Jean Caribe is unveiling the last stages of her plan and if she isn’t stopped, the entire world will ultimately become hers to send into hell.
Now, onto her creations.
The Mortuus Vivens are, without a doubt, dangerous creatures. With their red eyes, venomous body fluids and sluggish movements, these creatures are both hellish and fearless. Attracted to the blood of humans, Caribe has thrown traps everywhere in hopes of continuing her race from hell. If you or one of your party members is injured, my only suggestion is to run like hell. Bandages do not disguise the smell of blood to these creatures, so do what you can to stem the blood.
Above all, avoid bites by one of these fear-smelling, mostly night creatures. As much as I dislike promoting folklore, Caribe’s creations do follow the same premise as an American-fied Zombie; having watched someone being injected with her serum, the venom slowly turns the bitten into one of her creatures and there’s no way back after that.
Be safe, stay alive and I wish you (and your traveling companions) the best of luck.
- Dr. Noah Duncan
Cho rescanned the letter with his eyes and cursed. His suspicions about Jean Caribe just had to be right, didn’t they? He had hoped he had imagined everything, but the note reminded him of two things.
One, he had really seen an animated and undead human being; and it had really tried to turn him and Van Pelt into another one of its brethren.
Two, Lisbon and Rigsby were still out in the woods, searching for Jane. They were most likely without a clue about the dark creations lurking within the forest, but what could he do? Cho can’t warn them, because he can’t leave Van Pelt. It’s the true definition of a Catch-22, which caused Cho to hit his fist against the table within the tent.
“Damn it!” Cho cursed again, stepping outside the tent and into almost pure darkness. He moved the light from his cellphone around; Van Pelt remained curled up on the forest ground and the forests around them were abnormally quiet again.
He could only hope, as he settled down next to Van Pelt, that both Rigsby and Lisbon would survive until morning’s first light.
~
Somewhere, between dusk and the first light of dawn, the sound of screaming caused him to shoot off the ground and nearly break his neck. Van Pelt muttered something, as he felt her clutching his leg, tight.
“What in the fuck was that thing?” Cho heard Rigsby’s voice from beyond the bushes; the man sounded both pained and panicked, which made Cho fear for the absolute worse. He escaped from Van Pelt’s hold (without waking her up) and stepped toward the bushes, his weapon in front of him again.
“Oh, god,” he heard Rigsby’s voice again. “Boss, you need medical attention.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Rigsby,” Lisbon, Cho could tell, was clearly scowling, which calmed his nerves. If she was scowling, it couldn’t be that bad. “Once we find Cho and Van Pelt, we’ll call Caribe for backup. I can’t go much further.”
“We’re not calling Caribe,” Cho finally advised, as he stepped into the bushes and met them both. “She’s behind whatever happened to you both. Did you find Jane?” The question tumbled from his mouth, before he caught sight of their blood-splattered conditions.
Disclaimer: I've never owned anything.
Summary: AU. Out in the woods, something sinister is brewing and Cho, unwillingly, becomes the hero. Written for the Mentalist Reverse Big Bang 2013. Inspired by the artwork from agent_era.
Notes: While written for the Mentalist Reverse Big Bang; this also uses a prompt from my H/C bingo card: fighting. Yaaaaay!
Warning: Violence is a part of this fic, as is gore. Haha. Happy early Halloween, I suppose!
The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow’d ground.
Howl, Florence & The Machine
“Our victim is a Jessica McCain, aged twenty-years-old,” Agent Wayne Rigsby explained to Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, who continued to stare down at their exsanguinated victim. With her own black blazer sleeves bunched up to the nook of her elbows, she crouched down next to Jessica and eyed every inch of exposed pale skin. “Time of death is still unknown, as we’re the first on the scene. Sheridan Sheriff, Jean Caribe, tells me that Jessica was well-liked by the entire community and that she couldn’t imagine anyone killing the young girl, especially in the park.”
Kimball Cho pulled his eyes away from Lisbon to glance at Rigsby, who accompanied his sentence with an eye roll. Having already seen Jessica McCain, he could understand the reasons for the eye roll; Jessica was both young and beautiful, two traits that often stirred up some type of possible resentment within a community. Cho half-expected to hear a comment from Patrick Jane regarding the idea that everyone liked Jessica, but nothing came.
“Ah, silence,” Cho heard Lisbon say, lightly. “I never thought I’d be in my post long enough to remember what pre-Jane days used to be like.” He brought his eyes back down to Lisbon, only to find her grinning and relaxed. With Red John finally gone and behind bars, Director Gale Bertram had somehow managed to weasel Jane into taking a two-week vacation. While Cho didn’t exactly care about the circumstances surrounding Jane’s unexpected acceptance, he and Rigsby had overheard some of the interns Jane’s “off-kilter behavior”: “I heard Agent Lisbon told him they couldn’t be together-y’know, sexually-unless he left for two weeks,” Joanna Richards had theorized. Rigsby had given him a quick glance and had shaken his head; eyebrows lifted in amusement. If Lisbon had somehow been involved in Jane’s acceptance and compliance of Bertram’s order, Cho had a feeling that Lisbon would be with Jane instead of with them. “Too bad he’s returning today though. Bertram told me he’d tell Jane to head straight to this crime scene after noon.”
It was already 11:50, which meant they all had ten more minutes without Jane’s infuriating (and sometimes inappropriate) comments.
He continued to watch Lisbon, as she stood from her spot and faced them all with the crossing of her arms before she met his eyes. “Where’s Sheriff Caribe now?”
“She left; something about a disturbance call, boss,” Cho informed her, mirroring her stance. He heard her sigh and he fought to contain a small smirk at her impatience. “She said she’d be back in about…” The sound of someone clearing his or her throat from behind him effectively interrupted him and he turned to find harried Sheriff, Jean Caribe.
“I’m terribly sorry about my lateness, Agents,” Caribe apologized with a slight smile. Cho felt Rigsby’s elbow jab into his ribs, before he turned his stare on the younger agent. After their first encounter with Caribe, prior to Lisbon’s arrival and the disturbance call, Rigsby had sent him a brief text message about how attractive Caribe truly was. Plaited blonde hair, caramel skin and baby blue eyes, Jean Caribe certainly had a level of attractiveness about her that he couldn’t deny, but he just wasn’t interested in her. “I had a situation regarding one of my habitual offenders and our department is small, due to budget cuts.” Cho refocused his attention on Caribe, only to find her studying Jessica’s body with a frown. “We’ve never had a murder in Sheridan, Agents. The most I’ve ever dealt with is missing persons, as people in this town continue to disappear.”
“Any ideas on who might have killed her, Sheriff?” Lisbon asked, ignoring Caribe’s previous statement. Caribe shook her head.
“I wish had some ideas for you, Agent Lisbon, but no. Everyone loved Jessica, truly; she was a bright young woman, who had just accepted her place in some international internship. Jess and her parents were truly looking forward to that.” Cho heard Caribe sigh, his attention still fully on her. “Jessica was a pure and beautiful individual, who put her entire being into worshipping her God. Jess was studying to be our next preacher, after preacher Jonas McGreevy passed on.” He couldn’t figure out if Caribe was actually sad about Jessica’s passing or the idea that someone in her town had died, even after he watched her daub at her eyes with her fingertips. Cho had been around Jane long enough to know that the expression of sadness did not always match up to the dead victim; so either Jean Caribe was an excellent liar or she truly was sad about Jessica’s death. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. We need to catch her murderer…”
“Actually, there is something,” Lisbon interrupted and Caribe’s eyes went to Lisbon. “We need to speak with whoever found the body.”
“Forgive my absent-mindedness, Agents,” Caribe answered. “I happened upon Jessica’s body, due to my daily patrol here. Many teens use those woods,” she motioned behind her toward the Sheridan woods, “to get high and have sex. I was walking along the perimeter of the woods, when I spotted some ravenous activity in the sky.” Caribe took a deep breath. “I stepped closer, believing the object might be a dead animal. However, I wasn’t prepared to find crows and Jessica’s…” Cho watched her press her hand against her mouth and he glanced toward Lisbon. While he had become almost desensitized to the idea of death, especially after seeing the cruel actions from other humans both in the army and on the Serious Crimes Unit, he knew everyone still handled their first dead body differently.
Lisbon nodded. “Thank you. If you need it, you may take a moment to recollect yourself, Sheriff.”
“Thank you, Agent Lisbon,” Caribe replied, before she turned from them and Jessica’s body. “I think I’ll go speak with my deputy.” Cho watched Lisbon shake her head.
“Think she’s lying, boss?” Rigsby asked.
“Why would she be lying about stumbling upon the body?” Lisbon replied, incredulously. “I will remind you, like I constantly remind Jane; not everything is a conspiracy.” Cho said nothing. The idea of yet another dirty cop though, especially after the amount of CBI and FBI agents found helping Red John, made him dislike Rigsby’s question also. Not all cops were dirty or killers; only half of the Sacramento FBI field office, Visualize and the Professional Standards Unit within the CBI was. “Where’s Van Pelt?”
“Trying to find a coroner,” Cho explained, before he watched Lisbon grimace. “Our newest coroner, Dr. Cooper, is apparently already dealing with a narcotic crime scene at the moment.”
“I would believe a homicide would come first,” Lisbon answered and Cho shrugged. It wasn’t the first time that Bertram had prioritized a narcotics death over a serious crime, especially with the lack of funding in hiring coroners. “Tell Officer Pierson and Officer Friendly to stand over McCain’s body, until we can find a coroner.” Rigsby silently slipped away and Cho grimaced. “You’d think Director Bertram would be bending over backwards to help us close cases, but no. His golden boy isn’t here, so why should he do us any favors?”
“Apparently saving him from death gained us no favors,” Cho dryly responded and Lisbon snorted. “When or if Jane shows up, Bertram might send a coroner with him.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s already twenty minutes after noon now.”
“Jane’s tardiness shouldn’t surprise either of us, really,” Lisbon said. “However, I’m surprised Bertram hasn’t called yet.”
“Give him time; he will.” Cho had a suspicion that Bertram would call in the next thirty or so minutes, as the Director kept an extremely close eye on them all. They obviously weren’t Bertram’s favorite unit, but his supposed “supervision” was retribution for being kidnapped at the hands of Red John. “He’ll need to know where Jane is.”
“I don’t even know where Jane is,” Lisbon answered. Cho doubted Bertram would be extremely thrilled with the answer of “I don’t know”, especially when it pertained to the location of Jane. “I suppose I could lie, but Jane keeps telling me that I’m a horrible liar.” He said nothing in response again and she sighed. “You think I’m a horrible liar too, don’t you?” Cho continued to glance at her, quietly. Lisbon and he had been friends for many years and still, he thought she was a lousy liar. Jane had been helping her get better, especially with his involvement in her poker games, but nothing could turn a pure saint into half a sinner. “On second thought, lying seems like a bad idea. He’s my boss.”
Cho nearly rolled his eyes at her words. Bertram probably expected them to lie about Jane’s whereabouts anyway. “Tell him Jane’s gone after an apple, boss.” He watched Lisbon’s mouth open slightly, before the shrill of her phone halted their conversation; her hand went for her pocket and with a quick sigh, she held the phone to her ear.
“Lisbon,” he heard her greet whoever was on the line, before her dark eyebrows furrowed together and her lips grew thin. “What do you mean he’s already here? He never actually showed up to the crime scene, Director.” Cho glanced to Rigsby, who eyed him from a distance of two feet away. “I think I would know what my own consultant looks like, sir. I’ve worked with Jane for almost nine years now; certain features tend to stick out in my…” She paused. “I am not calling you a liar, sir. I am…yes, sir. I’ll ask around.” Lisbon removed her phone from her ear and grimaced. “Jane’s apparently here. Have either of you seen him?”
“I haven’t seen him, boss,” Rigsby answered and Cho shook his head. If Jane had been there, all of them would have heard him. “Is Bertram sure…”
“Positive,” Lisbon replied. “Bertram said Jane came to his office, got the information on where we are and came straight out here.” She continued to furrow her brows, as she glanced around the park. “I don’t see his vehicle, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s possible Jane slipped past us all and went directly into the woods without a word.” Neither one of them could argue with her. Jane enjoyed his secrets and if he thought he could show them all up; he would, just for kicks.
“We’re searching the woods, aren’t we?” Rigsby asked and Lisbon nodded. “Why do I keep wearing new suits on days I have to either search through dumpsters or go hunting for a rogue consultant?”
“It’s truly a mystery,” Cho gave, dryly. Rigsby stared at him and Cho stared back, before he turned toward Lisbon. “Sheridan Forest is small; we could find him in about two hours, if we all search.”
“When Van Pelt was lost…” Rigsby started.
“When Van Pelt was lost,” Lisbon repeated, crossing her arms against her chest. “We had no idea where to begin. Here, we only have about 2.2 square miles to cover and if I know Jane, he’s probably balking at some raccoon by now.” Lisbon rolled her eyes. “We’ll all split up to search for him.” Rigsby opened his mouth and Lisbon shook her head. “No way. If I put you and Van Pelt together, the entire forest population might flee.” Cho watched with amusement as Rigsby closed his mouth and glanced down at his feet. “Cho, take Van Pelt and search the west side of the forest. I’ll take Rigsby and we’ll search the east part of the forest.”
“Yes, boss,” both responded.
Lisbon scowled. “I’m going to kill him.” She motioned for Rigsby to follow her, before she turned back to glance at Cho. “I don’t know how well the cell service will be in the woods, so we’ll just meet up in the center of the woods in about an hour or so.” He nodded again, watching them both disappear into the woods before he turned on his heels and stepped in the direction that Van Pelt had gone earlier.
“Agent?” Cho turned to find Caribe behind him. “Where did Agent Lisbon and Rigsby go?” Although Lisbon hadn’t said to debrief the Sheriff on their situation or on their plan, he figured she hadn’t wanted to keep the Sheridan Sheriff in the dark.
“One of our colleagues snuck into the woods…”
“You mean Patrick Jane?” Caribe asked and Cho nodded. “Mr. Jane asked me if Jessica had a secret hiding place in these woods and I told him I didn’t know.” He watched her frown. “He told me you all knew he was going inside the woods. If I had known…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Cho dismissed her apology with his hand. Even if Caribe had known, Jane still would have slipped past them all and they would still all be searching the woods. “We’ll be back in about three hours.”
“I’ll tell the coroner to send the remains back to Sacramento,” Caribe replied and Cho nodded. “Good luck, Agent.” Caribe shot him a small smile, before she turned away and started back toward her Deputy.
“Good luck for what?” Cho heard Grace Van Pelt ask from behind him, and he motioned for her to follow him. “Is everything okay, Cho?”
“Jane’s lost in the woods. We need to find him, before Lisbon kills him.”
Van Pelt merely chuckled in response. “Lead the way then.”
The eerie silence, aside from the dried leaves crunching beneath their feet, made Cho feel rather uneasy as he and Van Pelt continued deeper into the heavily wooded area. The lack of wildlife or noises reminded Cho of the Blair Witch Project and Cho half-expected a group of three filmmakers following behind them, but from the lack of sounds around them, he knew they were alone.
He heard Van Pelt mutter something, but he ignored her ramblings. She had already tried to start a conversation once or twice, though his focus on the tasks ahead-finding Jane and conferring with Lisbon-had left both of her conversational attempts dying before they truly began. Cho heard her mutter something again and he cleared her throat, only causing her to respond with a question. “Are you sure we haven’t been this way yet?” He didn’t even bother glancing down at his watch to see how long it had been since had first asked this question. Cho said nothing to her. “It all looks the same.”
He almost stopped to glance at her, but instead, he continued past one of the larger trees. Obviously, the woods would look all the same-same trees, same leaves, and same vantage points-unless one looked closely, and Cho was looking closely. He had spent months hiding in wooded areas, back during his time in the army, so none of this bothered him. The Sheridan Woods, however, were much larger than any of them had predicted; and Cho wanted to kick himself for not re-consulting the map Caribe had handed him early on.
“Keep your gun out,” Cho advised. He heard Van Pelt’s hands tug at her holster, as he pulled his own gun out and continued walking. Van Pelt kept quiet, something he was truly thankful for; it wasn’t that he didn’t like her, it was the fact that something felt off about the woods. That feeling made Cho want to turn back, leave, but they had both agreed to meet Lisbon halfway, and if neither of them showed, a larger search party would occur. “If you hear anything, shoot at it.”
Van Pelt probably thought he had lost his mind, although his focus was on trying to get them both out of the woods alive. Cho doubted she thought anything was wrong, and though silence (to him) was the largest indicator that something sinister was at work; he knew Rigsby and Jane would have laughed at his superstitious side, so he said nothing about his concerns and kept walking.
Something rustled the bushes and Cho fired his first shot, without hesitation. The bush fell still and he moved forward, knowing Van Pelt was behind him, probably holding an expression of disgust.
“Shouldn’t we check…?”
“No,” Cho interrupted. “Whatever it was; the thing is dead now.” He just hoped Jane hadn’t been hiding in that bush, as explaining why their consultant was riddled with bullet holes was not, after all, how he wanted to lose his job. Cho heard Van Pelt move toward the bushes, before he heard her exhale sharply. “What?”
“You shot and killed a baby raccoon.”
Cho shrugged. “It shouldn’t have been in our way.” Regardless of how Van Pelt probably felt, her glaring at his back wasn’t going to bring the poor creature back. “Come on. We need to hurry.”
“…maybe we should turn back?” Van Pelt suggested, hesitantly. She looked exhausted, which he paid no attention to; it wasn’t his fault if she weren’t sleeping enough, because of her time with Rigsby. Cho stilled to stare at her, unimpressed. “I’m not frightened. Something just feels off about all of this…”
“We can’t leave him or them out there,” Cho replied. When Van Pelt had been lost out in the woods, they hadn’t just left her there. So why would any of them even consider leaving Jane behind?
“Cho, I’m not suggesting we leave them; I just think someone miscalculated the size of these woods.” Cho crossed his arms against his chest. “By going further in, we might never be found.”
Logically, Van Pelt was right.
However, it still felt wrong leaving anyone in the woods.
Cho turned on his heels and continued walking forward; he heard Van Pelt sigh in frustration behind him. “Do you not agree, Van Pelt?”
“I’ve watched enough horror movies to know better, Cho,” Van Pelt replied, walking behind him still. “Five friends go into the woods; four are murdered and one ends up being chained in a sewer by a knife-wielding maniac, who has secretly fallen for her.”
He nearly snorted at her overactive imagination. “This isn’t Friday the 13th, redone twenty different times. This is reality.” Truthfully, most of the books had read had better plots than that. “Everything will be fine, Van Pelt.” She said nothing to him and Cho rolled his eyes. He only wanted them both to be realistic, as using cheap horror movie plots weren’t going to keep any of them calm or rational.
Cho opened his mouth to warn Van Pelt of his suspicions, when he heard something crunch and a loud, piercing scream break the eerie silence. With his gun still in front of him, he quickly turned only to find Van Pelt on the ground.
“Van Pelt, are you…?” His eyes caught the reason for her screaming almost immediately; her left foot had become ensnared within a bear trap. Cho tucked his gun away and crotched down next to her, spotting the sharp metal jagging through her pale flesh with a frown. “Don’t move.” Van Pelt glanced up at him, a sour expression on her face. “I’m going to call Lisbon. You need medical attention.” Cho pulled out his phone and dialed Lisbon’s number, before he settled his hand on her knee.
“How bad is it?” Van Pelt asked him, her eyes closed. Cho said nothing, as he waited for Lisbon to answer her phone. After the fifth ring and the beginning of her voicemail message, Cho disconnected his phone and glanced back down at her mangled foot. He didn’t want to tell her how bad it was; the doctors, he knew, would take one look at her foot and remove the limb from her body. Cho kept quiet, however, because they both needed to stay focused and Van Pelt needed to stay conscious. “That bad, really?”
“You’ll need medical attention,” Cho confirmed, glancing at her face. “You okay?”
Van Pelt snorted in disbelief. “I’ve had a bear trap sink through my leg and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Her shoulders shook and Cho waited to see how she would react. “You won’t even tell me if it needs to come off or not.”
“I’m a homicide detective, Van Pelt, not a doctor,” Cho avoided her comment. “If you want a doctor’s opinion, we’ll get you one.” She fell back into silence and Cho moved toward her. “I can’t get Lisbon. Do you think you’ll be able to walk, Van Pelt?”
“I can try,” Van Pelt offered, moving to her knees. He watched her try to stand, only to fall back down on her knees and grimace in pain. “It hurts. I can’t.” Cho patted her knee again and she slumped to the ground, her eyes barely opened.
“Van Pelt, you need to stay…”
The sound of something gnawing in the bushes stopped him, as he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it toward the bushes. The bushes rustled again and Cho traced the trigger of his gun with a watchful eye, when it emerged from the bushes. It, Cho noticed as he pulled the trigger and shot several rounds into the lifeless being, had blood red eyes and yellowed teeth; its skin partially decayed and its pure boned arm inching out toward him and Van Pelt.
Van Pelt screamed again, and Cho bend down to yank the bear trap off Van Pelt’s foot. He tried to ignore her screaming, her pleas for an end, as the bear trap finally came loose, and she slumped to the ground unconscious; her mangled foot remained behind, as her newly freed limb coated the right side of his body with red.
It lunged toward Van Pelt again with a moan. Cho pulled Van Pelt from the ground and threw her over his shoulder, before he took off running in the opposite direction. He could hear it in the background trying to follow them both, but he didn’t stop to fire another round.
Cho continued running, until he couldn’t run anymore.
Before his body collapsed due to a lack of oxygen, he moved Van Pelt’s unconscious body from over his shoulder to rest on the forested ground. The coppery scent of blood clung to his body and within his nostrils, as he moved to tear his red-stained white dress shirt aside, leaving his chest bare and exposed to the rapidly chilling night air.
Cho blinked twice. What in the hell had he just seen? He knew that thing couldn’t possibly be alive, but creatures of the dead couldn’t exist...or could they? Cho frowned, crossing his arms against his chilled chest. Everything he had just witnessed went against every logical thought within his head; undead things, he knew, didn’t exist and his eyes had just played an awful trick on him.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t get the sight of its red eyes or decaying flesh out of his head. Whatever he had seen wasn’t just an illusion; the beast he had shot several times was, undeniably, real and he and Van Pelt had almost become lunch for whatever the hell that thing was. Cho felt his insides dangerously twist, and he worked to calm his heaving breaths down; being in the military had prepared him for all sorts of horrors and feelings of guilt, but nothing had quite prepared him for the sight of that or the sudden loss of Van Pelt’s foot.
He avoided glancing at Van Pelt. Maybe he should have listened to her; if he had, she might still have had her entire foot and they wouldn’t be lost within Sheridan Forest either. However, guilt wasn’t going to help either of them, and so, he moved from his knees to focus on keeping them both alive. Although it was dusk, the clearing he had somehow stumbled into was lit just enough to where he could make out the resemblance of a water stream and a tent in the near distance.
“Anybody out there?” Cho called.
Silence was his only response and he slowly moved toward the lone tent; he had to know if anyone was also out here, trying to keep away from the hellish creatures as well. Cho lifted the edges of the tent up and stepped into the dark space. Using the light from his cellphone, he scanned the tent for survivors only to find plenty of canned goods, bottles of water, flashlights, weapons, a fully stocked first-aid kit and a small black journal, displayed atop the first-aid kit.
Cho picked up the small black journal and opened it; small, cursive print flowed on the pages and he flipped through the pages, until the heading of one caught his attention.
To whoever finds this-
My name is Dr. Noah Duncan; I have been in these woods for six weeks, three days and four hours, according to the log I made after my cellphone died. Why am I writing this down? Because whoever finds this book needs to know, they are in grave danger of becoming what roams these forests at night.
I call these things, “Mortuus Vivens”, as I refuse to call these creatures by their American-fied name. These creatures are not the cursed ‘Z’ name; they are, by far, much more sinister than their horror flick companions. They are obviously not God’s creation, but instead the byproduct of a doctor gone mad with the pressures of society. My fellow colleague, who I followed into these woods on a “special assignment” (we were asked to study the migration patterns of the monarch butterfly, again), suggested we set up camp in this exact spot.
We did so and she disappeared, right after. I searched most of these woods for her, only to have discovered that my college was not in these woods for the butterflies. She was in the woods and had brought me along, so I could 1) watch whatever was unfolding and b) so I could eventually die. I accepted my fate without argument, but Dr. Jean Caribe refused to grant my request for a painless death, and she forced me into a twisted game of cat-and-mouse with her creations.
For weeks, I hid. I ate berries, the carcasses of dead animals, and turned to eventually eating my own flesh to stay alive and alert. I am back in this tent now, however, because I am at the end of the life. I know my time has come, so I am using my last remaining time on this earth to expose Dr. Jean Caribe’s master plan and to warn you about her creations.
Dr. Caribe wants to damn the human race, and the only way to do so (in her opinion) is by turning them all into flesh-eating demons. Caribe is a power hungry and manipulative woman, who will do anything to test her experiments until they can be unreleased into the world. That idea, alone, is probably why you’re here right now. Jean Caribe is unveiling the last stages of her plan and if she isn’t stopped, the entire world will ultimately become hers to send into hell.
Now, onto her creations.
The Mortuus Vivens are, without a doubt, dangerous creatures. With their red eyes, venomous body fluids and sluggish movements, these creatures are both hellish and fearless. Attracted to the blood of humans, Caribe has thrown traps everywhere in hopes of continuing her race from hell. If you or one of your party members is injured, my only suggestion is to run like hell. Bandages do not disguise the smell of blood to these creatures, so do what you can to stem the blood.
Above all, avoid bites by one of these fear-smelling, mostly night creatures. As much as I dislike promoting folklore, Caribe’s creations do follow the same premise as an American-fied Zombie; having watched someone being injected with her serum, the venom slowly turns the bitten into one of her creatures and there’s no way back after that.
Be safe, stay alive and I wish you (and your traveling companions) the best of luck.
- Dr. Noah Duncan
Cho rescanned the letter with his eyes and cursed. His suspicions about Jean Caribe just had to be right, didn’t they? He had hoped he had imagined everything, but the note reminded him of two things.
One, he had really seen an animated and undead human being; and it had really tried to turn him and Van Pelt into another one of its brethren.
Two, Lisbon and Rigsby were still out in the woods, searching for Jane. They were most likely without a clue about the dark creations lurking within the forest, but what could he do? Cho can’t warn them, because he can’t leave Van Pelt. It’s the true definition of a Catch-22, which caused Cho to hit his fist against the table within the tent.
“Damn it!” Cho cursed again, stepping outside the tent and into almost pure darkness. He moved the light from his cellphone around; Van Pelt remained curled up on the forest ground and the forests around them were abnormally quiet again.
He could only hope, as he settled down next to Van Pelt, that both Rigsby and Lisbon would survive until morning’s first light.
~
Somewhere, between dusk and the first light of dawn, the sound of screaming caused him to shoot off the ground and nearly break his neck. Van Pelt muttered something, as he felt her clutching his leg, tight.
“What in the fuck was that thing?” Cho heard Rigsby’s voice from beyond the bushes; the man sounded both pained and panicked, which made Cho fear for the absolute worse. He escaped from Van Pelt’s hold (without waking her up) and stepped toward the bushes, his weapon in front of him again.
“Oh, god,” he heard Rigsby’s voice again. “Boss, you need medical attention.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Rigsby,” Lisbon, Cho could tell, was clearly scowling, which calmed his nerves. If she was scowling, it couldn’t be that bad. “Once we find Cho and Van Pelt, we’ll call Caribe for backup. I can’t go much further.”
“We’re not calling Caribe,” Cho finally advised, as he stepped into the bushes and met them both. “She’s behind whatever happened to you both. Did you find Jane?” The question tumbled from his mouth, before he caught sight of their blood-splattered conditions.