Darkness Falls

Chapter 1

 If Death had a favorite chariot, it would be the Jeeper Kreeper.

Amid the flashing lights and the occasional strobe flare, Aleia Falls moved her retrofitted ambulance slowly through the crush of parked state trooper vehicles and the local Falls County police cruisers and found an empty spot closer to the curb and parked there–not too far from the scene of the accident.

Getting out into the drizzling rain, the county medical examiner pulled her rain slicker hood up over her head and quietly made her way up to the gaggle of police officers and a few state troopers congregating in a tight circle.

Flashing her credentials to the closest officer in question, she launched into the most obvious question of the night: "Which one of you bright beans called my office and requested a medical examiner to the scene?"

One of the guys pointed to his comrades in the back row.

"That would be Lieutenant Ramirez." The guy in front of her said. "He's the guy in charge of things."

"Okay. So produce him. I don't have all night." Aleia admonished quickly, not in the mood to be dragged off her current case load for a couple of dead bodies.

The officer nodded and led the way through the standing room only crowd and soon the woman came face to face with a sharp-looking young man with lieutenant stripes on his forearm and epaulets on his visible collar.

"You Ramirez?" The woman snapped irritably.

The officer nodded. "That would be me." He said in greeting. "And you must be Doctor Aleia Falls. Glad you could come on such short notice."

The man's genuine hint of an apology took some of the wind out of the woman's sails and she sighed.

"I was in the middle of another examination when my phone rang. I had to have my assistant take over so I could get up here." Aleia explained curtly.

Ramirez looked at her contritely. "Sorry about pulling you away from your work, but we thought this might be important."

"How is six dead stiffs important?" The woman ground out, her irritation and anger resurfacing. Looking around her, she spotted three county ambulances in the distance, but it didn't seem like anyone was doing much of anything.

Except waiting.

The lieutenant scratched the top of his head through the brim of his hat and said, "Yes, well, normally we wouldn't need a county medical examiner on the scene of a drunk-driving accident, but what we found gave us reason to call you–seeing how you're, ah, specialized in this sort of thing."

"Specialized in what, exactly?" Aleia pressed the man.

"You'll see." Ramirez promised the impatient woman, leading her past a couple of unrecognizable wrecks scattered across the road like dominos, passing a third half-mangled Ford Caravan with its right side smashed in and every air bag in sight deployed.

Aleia took in the heavy scene with a grain of salt and inquired, "Any survivors?"

Ramirez nodded. "A family of four." He confirmed. "Some bumps, bruises, a broken arm, but nothing too serious."

"What about the rest?" The woman continued to ask, thumbing her way back to the two wrecks they passed on the road.

"Kids on a fucking joyride. It seems. We can't tell, but we believe that alcohol was involved. Because we found cans scattered all over God's creation after the scene. From what we can deduce, the whole chain of events started when the first car hit someone up on the median here–crossing illegally I might add–which sent the second car into the first and they just...blew apart like confetti. Both cars were traveling at unsafe speeds–which in the rain–is pretty damned stupid. But we get this sort of thing all the time. People just don't know how to drive effectively in bad weather. It's all a game to them." He paused for a second to collect his breath before continuing.