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I’ve seen Evanesce in action before, but never to this scale. She flits between bodies, soothing anyone who’s alive. She has the ability to heal them, and she does what she can to take away their pain. She can’t undo the gunshots, though. That’s what Graveyard is here to help with.
Pocus instructs Bones, Knix, Hemlock, and Gator to fan out and find the shooter. The police haven’t arrived yet, and he’ll make sure to bring swift justice to the murderer if he can find him. Pocus doesn’t trust the police to do what’s right. None of us do.
Of course the pigs show up ten minutes after we do. That’s NOLA’s finest for you. They’re always a day late and a few brain cells short. They eye me and my men suspiciously. I glare back, daring them to make an accusation. It wouldn’t be the first I was falsely accused of a crime and it certainly won’t be the last.
We would never do something so senseless, and that’s what makes the beast inside me claw out for freedom. He wants to kill the person that inflicted so much pain on innocents who just wanted to enjoy a night on the town. Some of the victims look like mere children. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were youngsters who snuck in, thinking they would find a good time tonight. How wrong they were.
The policemen walk around carefully, trying not to step on bodies, but it’s difficult. They’re everywhere. It turns my stomach to see so many in pain, some grasping to life by the skin of their teeth. Evanesce helps with the pain, and Graveyard will save as many as he can. Hopefully the pigs will see we’ve only come to help.
Many are unconscious, and the able-bodied have already fled for their lives. The cops won’t get many statements tonight, except from us. I won’t be surprised if they try to haul us all away for something we had no hand in. That would be typical of them.
A young officer approaches me, looking mighty full of himself. I hate him instantly.
“I know you,” he says. “You’re Pocus. You’re legendary around the station.”
Bylegendary, he meansuntouchable. Try as they might, the police haven’t pinned any crimes on me in years. That’s mostly because the crimes they accuse me of were perpetrated by someone else. Also because Snake constantly monitors the situation and lets me know when the police are making inquiries.
We couldn’t have predicted tonight, though. I look warily at Seer, remembering what he told me this morning. He literally couldn’t predict tonight, despite the fact it directly involved him. His visions don’t come at will but in a situation like this… they must be even worse than he’s letting on. A chill runs through me, and I worry for my friend and vice president.
“Can I help you?” I ask the man in a bored tone, indicating this has nothing to do with me.
“For starters, you can tell me what the hell you’re doing at this nightclub moments after someone opened fire.”
I notice a glint in his eye. He thinks he has me. I have an alibi, though, and a perfectly legitimate excuse for being here. I tell him my men were here enjoying their night like everyone else. I show the man my phone, and he can see that Hex called me after the shooting had already occurred.
“As you can see, Officer,” I tell him in a tone so saccharine it makes me feel sick, “I had nothing to do with what occurred tonight. I’ve only come to offer my help.”
The officer eyes me warily and tells me not to wander off. He’s out of his depth and he knows it, but he wants to believe he has any control over the situation. That’s how these pigs are.
I hear the ambulances arriving outside, and paramedics immediately rush in to put bodies on the stretchers. I scan the room and see Evanesce and Graveyard are nowhere to be found. They don’t want to be thanked or recognized for the work they’ve done tonight. But I saw, and I’ll thank them properly when we’re back home. They deserve the praise.
The scene inside is mass confusion. Outside is no better. I walk out to catch my breath and see dozens of news reporters held back by a makeshift blockade. Hundreds of onlookers wait, watching for any news. They’ll be waiting for a long time.
Bones and Gator meet me outside in the back alley, informing me that the shooter got away. They combed the place, but there was no trace of him anywhere. The police will use that as an excuse to pin it on us, I’m sure, saying Hex or Seer was responsible. Evidence will prove them wrong, but it won’t stop them from trying. That’s just the way things work.
“Hey,” the officer from earlier calls to me gruffly from the entrance of the alleyway. “I told you not to wander.”
“I’m literally standing ten feet from the door,” I tell him in a cold tone. “I’ve followed your instructions as commanded. As you can see, my story lines up. If you’ve finished questioning my friends who were at risk of losing their lives tonight, I would very much like to leave.”
The man glares at me, but he knows I have a point. Unless they’re going to bring Hex and Seer in for questioning, they can’t hold us here. They’ve secured the scene, and it looks like the majority of the victims have been pulled out of the club.
The officer approaches me, his hand fiddling with his gun, when someone calls out over the radio. They’ve found something inside and they need all available officers inside. He glares at me and turns on his heel. I can see his frustration as if it steams out of him. He’ll remain disappointed, though.
My men join me outside, and Evanesce appears at my side. She tells me that Graveyard slipped away to be at the hospital when the victims arrive. He wants to finish the job he started here and save as many people as possible.
Seer and Hex both look shaken and pale, but they’ll be okay. We’ve seen more violence than this. It was unexpected, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. We stand there waiting for the police to clear us, showing that we’re willing to obey their authority.
An older officer sticks his head out of the back door and smiles at me. It isn’t a vicious, accusing smile like his junior colleague, but one of relief.
“Mr. Pocus, I’m glad I found you,” he says in a tone much too chipper for the situation. “You and your men are free to go. We found a calling card for the Cuatro Locos.” He turns his head back inside and motions at someone. “You owe him an apology,” the officer whispers to someone we can’t see.
Out comes the officer from earlier, his face colored with anger. He looks at me quickly, then down at his shoes, apologizing for falsely accusing us. It’s a rare thing to be apologized to by a cop, and I revel in his discomfort.
My men disperse, ready to go back to the club, but I stop them.
“This isn’t over. I know the leader of the Cuatro Locos, and he would never allow his men to do something like this.”
“You think it was a setup, Prez?” Hex asks, looking concerned.
