Available Darkness Season 1

single and, of course, what kind of mother was she?
    The vultures got what they wanted—more blood, when Evelyn OD’d on a half million milligrams or so of painkillers, falling into a forever sleep and leaving behind a note which said simply:

    “I’m sorry, Billy. Mommy will be with you, soon.”

    Caleb wanted someone to pay. He preferred the killer, of course, but would happily settle for the fucking press with its bottomless appetite for gore porn.
    Fortunately, Caleb wasn’t the point man for the media, but rather the lead investigator. His boss, Mathews, handled the reporters with an uncanny aplomb while Caleb seethed in the shadows.
    Now, as he stared at the photos, his attention drifted toward the hole in the kitchen wall, then down at his still purple knuckles.
    Yeah, good thing I’m not on TV today.
    Hands closed over his shoulder, startling him momentarily—Julia.
    He closed his eyes and lolled his head in surrender to her touch. “How’s it going?” she said, her voice soothing.
    “I don’t know,” he sighed, remembering the call from the night before telling him about Evelyn’s suicide, just moments before the news erupted on every station. He flinched in the morning light, reflecting on last night’s violence, embarrassed that Julia had seen him in such a fit.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly, eyes still closed.
    “You don’t need to apologize,” Julia said, leaning down, then lowering herself into his lap and laying her head on his chest.
    It had been a long time since they’d shared such a tender moment. It felt every bit as comfortable as it did alien.
    And then Julia said what Caleb wished she wouldn’t have.
    “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
    Not this fight again. Not now. Please, not now.
    He chewed his lip to keep himself quiet.
    Their tournament of silence threatened eternity. Eventually, Julia pulled away, an awkward moment she tried to improve by heading to the fridge and filling the house with the loud hum and clink of ice dropping into glass.
    “I can’t leave it like this,” he finally said. “This … fucker,” he said pointing at the stack of photos, “this fucking monster must be stopped.”
    “You can’t save the world,” Julia said, “even if you catch this guy, there will always be more monsters . More evil. More death. When are WE going to LIVE?”
    Caleb stared at Julia. He was too beaten to go over this again.
    “You don’t need to do this,” she said. “We have enough money. I can go back to work at the firm; they’d hire me in a minute.”
    Caleb grabbed a photo of the boy’s charred body from the folder, pushed his chair back violently, stood up, and shoved the picture in Julia’s face.
    “Do you see this? This was a child, for Christ’s sake! How can you ask me to stop? To fucking give up?” his voice cracked. Julia’s eyes were wide, brimming with tears. Caleb knew he’d gone too far. He turned away and dropped the photo on the table, then leaned down and ran his hands through his hair.
    “I can’t,” he said, “I can’t give up.”
    Suddenly, his phone’s ring broke the silence. He grabbed it off the table, glanced at the window—Mathews.
    “Yeah?”
    “We’ve got another body.”
    Caleb closed his eyes.
    Jesus, it’s never gonna end.
    “On the east coast, St. Augustine, Florida. Pack your bags, I’ll be right over.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 2 — Jacob

    Hours earlier…

    Jacob sat in the back of the bar, alone, watching as life animated around him despite the late hour. He needed to wash away the failure of earlier with some alcohol.
    The bar was packed, the music loud and obnoxious—the patrons even more so. He was feeling particularly bleak, and not in the mood for the company of his minions, who waited back at the motel. Only his driver, Mr. Dark, waited in the car (not the van, which they hid at a local garage), while Jacob took in the local night life.
    When he was at John’s house earlier, he tried to pick up the scent from Caleb, or any lingering memories which might lead him to Caleb. But he’d found nothing other than the usual stench of humanity. Jacob suspected the woman knew something, but he’d not been able to adequately probe her mind, given his brief window. He could’ve taken her then, but he didn’t know what kind of bond they had. If John had imprinted her, then John would know immediately if she were in danger, and would come running.
    And while Jacob was confident he could take