Grave Danger: Critter Catchers: Level Up, #1

By Hank Edwards

Things have been quiet for the Critter Catchers of Parson's Hollow. Sure, Cody And Demetrius have critters to catch: raccoons, chipmunks, and the odd possum or two. But there's been a refreshing lack of monsters.

 

Until Cody hits a man with his truck on a dark, lonely stretch of highway, and he's shocked to discover it's the town mayor… whose funeral they attended the week before!

 

Cody and Demetrius are back in the thick of things, this time trying to figure out why the dead in Parson's Hollow won't stay buried. The situation quickly takes an ominous and deadly turn when multitudes of the undead close in on them and those they love. While fighting for their lives, the Critter Catchers realize this time they're going to have to up their game to win.

 

They just might not have enough credits banked…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hank Edwards
• Release date: May 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215495469

Hank Edwards

Hank Edwards has been writing gay erotic fiction for more than twenty years. He has written over two dozen novels and even more short stories. His writing crosses many sub-genres, including romance, rom-com, contemporary, paranormal, suspense, mystery, and wacky comedy. Find out more at www.hankedwardsbooks.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Driving home from the Hollow Leg bar on a quiet, still night, Cody Bower ran over the mayor of Parson’s Hollow.

As he drove along Route 118, a winding stretch of two lane blacktop hemmed in on both sides by thick woods, his happy whistling was interrupted by a man lurching out of the trees into the path of his truck. He caught a momentary glimpse of the man’s face and registered a flash of recognition before shouting, What the fuck? Jerking the wheel didn’t help as much as he’d hoped. The passenger side of the truck took the impact, and the tires on that side thumped over the man.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Jamming down the brake pedal, he skidded to a halt, the backend fishtailing along the road. Once the truck had come to a stop, Cody hit the emergency flashers button and stepped out.

The night was clear but dark. The moon had yet to rise, and the town didn’t have funding for streetlights this far out. Only his flashing taillights illuminated the road, pulsing a sinister red glow across the figure lying a dozen feet away. They were pushing deep shadows into the spaces between trees crowded close to the gravel shoulder. He approached a few feet, then stopped. The taillights blinked with a steady red intensity. Cody had trouble breathing, and his body had gone cold as his mind thrummed with shock. What the fuck had he done? It hadn’t been his fault. The guy—it looked like the mayor, but that was fucking impossible—had walked right out in front of him.

Whatever had happened, a rational part of Cody’s brain was certain it couldn’t be the mayor lying in the road. It had to be someone who resembled the mayor. High ranking city official or not, the truth of the matter was Cody had definitely hit him, run over him in fact, and he absolutely felt like he was going to be sick.

A sudden movement from the body made him jump and take a step back.

The fuck? Cody whispered.

Another movement, more pronounced than the first as the man pulled an arm in close, dragging it along the road with an eerie scraping sound. It stopped at the side of his chest, and all was silent again. Then Cody watched in horror as the man slowly got to his knees, his movements jerky and awkward, painful to watch. The steady flash of red light showed the damage to the side of his head and face, and he held his left arm at a strange angle. Cody’s stomach twisted into a brutal knot that threatened to expel the burger, fries, and two beers he’d had at the bar with Jugs. He was thankful he’d stopped drinking when he did so he wouldn’t blow past the legal limit when the sheriff’s deputies eventually showed up. Swallowing past the lump of fear in his throat, Cody took a step toward the man.

Hey, buddy, you okay? I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you. Jesus, you came out of nowhere. Like, literally, nowhere. There’s just woods out here, and I wasn’t expecting someone to come walking out in front of me in the pitch dark.

The man unsteadily rose to his feet. His dark suit was torn in places and splattered with what Cody hoped was mud. A dirty, frayed tie hung askew from his neck. He stood swaying slightly and staring out into the woods across from him. With a sudden movement that made Cody jump, the man took a shaky step toward the dotted yellow center line. His left arm swung like it might no longer be attached at his shoulder, and Cody feared losing his dinner if he saw that again. Then the man cocked his head, twitched it around on his neck and fixed him with a look. A rattling shudder of recognition and terror ran through Cody.

This was definitely George Clarke, the mayor of Parson’s Hollow. He’d run over the mayor of their town. That in and of itself was a terrible, awful thing. But even more upsetting was the fact that a few days ago, he and Demmy had attended the mayor’s funeral.

Hadn’t they? He recalled having to remember how to tie a fucking tie. And how the skin of his neck had broken out for a couple of days from the rub of the collar. Not to mention how hot Demmy had looked in his own sport coat and tie, no matter that both were years out of style. Yeah, that had really happened and hadn’t been some kind of amazingly detailed fever dream.

What the fuck? He rubbed his eyes and squinted, sure there was some kind of mistake.

The man faced him. The taillights pulsed the same moment he took an abrupt and unsteady step toward Cody. There was absolutely no doubt about it. George Clarke stood a dozen feet away only days after Cody had paid his respects at his casket.

Um, Mr. Mayor? Cody said. You don’t look so good.

Another unsteady, and unnerving, step closer.

Okay, keep it together, Bower, Cody muttered as he took a step back. There’s a logical explanation for this. This isn’t the actual mayor, it’s just someone who looks like him. Everyone has a doppelgänger somewhere in the world.

Adrenaline flushed any trace of alcohol from his system. It was, unfortunately, a sensation with which he had become very familiar the last few years.

What the fuck was going on here?

You stay put, buddy. I’ll call for an ambulance. Cody backed up another couple of steps. You wait right there, Mr. Mayor, or whoever the fuck you are. Maybe, you know, take a seat on the side of the road or something.

He trotted back to his truck and sat in the driver’s seat, leaving the door open and one foot on the road. He grabbed his phone from the console and dialed 911.

Parson’s Hollow Police, what’s your emergency? The woman’s voice was cool and efficient.

Yeah, um, I’m out on Route 118 between the Hollow Leg and town, and someone, some guy, walked out of the woods right in front of my truck, and I, um, I couldn’t stop in time and I… well, I hit him.

Okay, sir. What’s your name?

Cody Bower.

In the moment of silence that followed, Cody checked his phone to see if he’d lost the connection. Then the woman spoke again, but her tone had a touch of frost different from her previous efficiency, and he wondered if she was someone he’d dated and dropped somewhere along the way. That list was long, he knew, and he always seemed to be paying for his past, even now that he’d figured all that shit out and was happily married.

All right, Mr. Bower, I’ve dispatched a deputy and an EMT.

Okay, thanks. He heard a far off siren start up. I can hear them now.

Are you injured, sir?

Me? No, I’m not injured.

The truck door wrenched open wide, startling a shout out of him. Cody dropped the phone and heard it hit the floor mat on the passenger side. Fingers gripped his thigh and a terrible odor washed over him as the man—it’s the mayor, it’s the goddamn mayor!—let out a deep and creepy moan.

What the fuck? Cody shouted, realizing in the back of his mind that it had become a kind of mantra for his evening.

He jerked his leg free, but the mayor leaned around the frame and into the cab. His eyes were pale and lifeless, mouth stretched open wide to reveal teeth crusted with something thick and dark. The tie hung down, and in the glow of the interior lights, Cody recognized it as the red power tie the mayor had been wearing at the viewing.

Fuck!

Cody pushed himself over the center console into the passenger seat. George Clarke put one hand on the driver’s seat cushion and stretched the other out toward him. Dirt lined his chipped and broken fingernails, something the mayor would have never allowed while he’d been living. The man had a regularly scheduled manicure while he’d been alive.

And what the fuck was actually happening right now?

Unable to tear his eyes from the mayor, Cody ran a hand back and forth across the interior of the passenger door behind him, desperately searching for the handle. George Clarke tried to get a foot up into the truck but missed, and he made a low, guttural sound of impatience that sent a cloud of noxious air over Cody. He coughed and turned away long enough to locate the door handle and yank on it. The door swung open, and he stumbled out onto the shoulder of the road. Standing on the gravel, Cody gripped the outer edge of the door tight and looked through the truck at the mayor.

What the fuck? Cody repeated, but softer this time.

The siren was closer, and he looked away a moment, squinting to see beyond the apron of light thrown out by the headlights. No sign of any emergency vehicle yet, but they couldn’t arrive fast enough. He looked through the truck’s cab again, and his breath caught in his chest.

It was empty.

Shit.

Still holding tight to the edge of the passenger door, Cody looked toward the front of the truck but saw no one in the glow of the headlights. He turned to the back in time to see the mayor lurch toward him, the intermittent red glow of the emergency flashers casting deep shadows across his expression of murderous rage.

What the fuck?

Cody backpedaled, finally releasing the passenger door. The mayor moved fast, however, and snagged the sleeve of Cody’s shirt, twisting his fingers into the material. With an adrenaline-fueled yank of his arm, Cody pulled free of the mayor’s grasp. But he was too close to the edge of the drainage ditch, and his foot slid down the grassy side. He stumbled into the ankle-deep standing water at the bottom and walked backward as the mayor staggered down the embankment after him.

What the fuck?

He’d shouted it this time, and was about to say it again when the backs of his legs hit something, and he sat down hard in the stinky water. The shock of his fall rattled up his spine and his teeth clicked together. His truck’s headlights provided enough light for him to see a large tree branch lying across the ditch, as well as the mayor stomping over it toward him.

Cody crabwalked back a few feet, then scrambled up the embankment onto the gravel shoulder. A sheriff’s car pulled up, lights flashing and siren abruptly cutting off. Cody was on all fours looking up at the cruiser when the driver door opened and Deputy Ryan Zellmer stepped out.

Son of a… Cody grumbled.

Zellmer was the newest member of the Parson’s Hollow sheriff’s department. He was young, brash, and carried a hell of a grudge against Cody and Demmy. Two years ago, Zellmer’s father, Wayne, had been a sheriff’s deputy during the werewolf invasion of Parsons’s Hollow. Unfortunately, Wayne Zellmer didn’t survive the night. Ryan Zellmer, nineteen at the time, had joined the department shortly afterward to honor his father.

And make life hard for the Critter Catchers he held responsible for his father’s death.

Stay where you are, sir, Zellmer said, one hand on the butt of his service weapon.

Ryan, hi, it’s Cody Bower, Cody said, starting to get to his feet.

It’s Deputy Zellmer, and I said stay down!

Okay, okay. Cody dropped to his hands and knees once again. He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see the mayor. Well, that was good at least. Wasn’t it? Probably was. He didn’t think Deputy Zellmer would intervene if the mayor started eating Cody alive. Hell, he’d probably cut chunks off of him and hand them over.

What’s going on here? Zellmer slowly approached Cody’s truck, ducking this way and that as he looked it over. We received a report of a pedestrian accident.

Yeah, that was me. I mean, I called it in. I was driving home and the may— He stopped and cleared his throat, nervously looking over his shoulder but still finding no threat. And a man stepped right out in front of my truck. I didn’t have time to stop, and I hit him.

And where is this man now? Zellmer moved out into the road, keeping Cody in his sightline, hand still on his weapon as he checked the area behind the truck. I don’t see anyone.

I know. He got up and, well, he came after me. Another look back, but still no sign of the mayor. Once again, what the fuck?

He attacked you?

Yeah. I ran back to my truck to get my phone and he… Cody winced and adjusted his position. Look, can I stand up and lean on the truck or something, please? This gravel is digging into my knees.

In a minute. Zellmer returned to stand before him. You said he came after you?

Yeah, he came up to my door and grabbed me and was trying to… I don’t know what he was trying to do.

Where did you last see this man?

Cody looked over his shoulder and gestured. Down in the ditch. I went out the passenger door to get away from him and fell into the ditch, and he came down after me.

Stay here.

Zellmer eased up to the edge of the embankment. He pulled a flashlight from his gun belt and directed the surprisingly bright beam into the ditch. Cody got to his knees and craned his head to see as well. There was no sign of the mayor or anyone that remotely resembled him.

I don’t see anyone. Zellmer turned back and gave Cody a critical look. Have you been drinking tonight, sir?

Not enough, Cody said.

Please get to your feet.

Cody stood up, wincing at all the little aches and pains. He gave Zellmer a shaky smile. I’m not crazy. You can see the dent in the front quarter panel of my truck.

Zellmer tipped his head and directed his light at the area. There is some damage, but it could be old. He shone the flashlight in Cody’s face. I’m going to give you a field sobriety test.

Cody sighed. Yeah, all right.

Zellmer called in and canceled the EMT, then he put Cody through test after test, ending with a breathalyzer. During the entire experience, Cody kept an eye out for the mayor but saw no sign of him. When Zellmer finally, regretfully, pronounced Cody sober enough to drive, he delivered a stern warning about driving after consuming any amount of alcohol. Cody nodded through the lecture, definitely not thinking that the young little shit was barely old enough to drink himself, and then watched as Zellmer slid into his patrol car and drove fast off into the night.

Dick.

Cody walked around his truck, wincing at the dent in his quarter panel. He stood and looked out into the dark woods. Nothing moved or made a sound, so he got into the truck and grabbed his phone from the passenger side footwell. He had three texts and two missed calls from Demmy.

He connected the phone to the entertainment system and called home before putting the truck into gear and heading off down the road, definitely driving much slower than before.

Hey there, Demmy said. Everything okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. But it’s been a weird night.

Uh oh. How weird?

Cody let out a long breath. I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to think I’m crazy.

Okaaay.

We attended the mayor’s funeral last week, right?

Um, yeah. Last Tuesday. Why are you asking about George’s funeral?

Because I hit him with my truck out on Route 118.

What? Oh my God. Are you okay? Is he… wait, are you sure it was him?

I’m fine, Cody said. A little freaked out, but okay. And I’m pretty damn sure it was him because he got up and attacked me, so I got a real good look at him.

Are you teasing me? Is this some kind of stupid joke or something?

I only wish it was.

Jesus. What the hell is going on?

I’m afraid we’re going to find out, Cody said as a shiver of fear went through him.

CHAPTER TWO

Demetrius sat on the front steps of the house. It was early June, but the nights were still a bit cool, so he sat with his knees pressed together and his arms tucked in tight. After Cody’s call, he’d decided to step outside and check to make sure the moon wasn’t full. A gentle breeze had carried the scents of damp earth and new growth and he’d decided to stay outside and enjoy it, even though his thoughts turned, as they often did, to darker and more serious matters.

Cody’s call worried him. They’d seen a lot of strange and dangerous stuff the last few years, some of it outside Parson’s Hollow, but a good portion within the town’s borders. Just a few weeks ago, he and Cody had helped Oliver and Dave banish a vengeful ghost from an abandoned motel, for God’s sake. At least they’d both come away from that experience with no injuries. Well, nothing physical, at least. Demetrius still awoke in the night clammy with sweat from nightmares, but he was hoping that would soon pass.

Sometimes, the aftereffects weren’t just emotional, either.

He reached a hand across his chest. His fingers slid beneath the neck of his T-shirt and rubbed the furrows of scar tissue where his neck and shoulder came together.

Some things they’d gone up against were more dangerous than strange.

Headlights swept across the lawn and front of the house, like the guiding beam of a lighthouse. He dropped his hand to his lap as a flash of guilt and shame coursed through him at possibly getting caught rubbing the scars. It had been his choice to go out and face Nicolae on his own, so he shouldn’t be dwelling on it. Cody never mentioned the scars, which didn’t surprise Demetrius. He had been against the idea from the start, and had made that very clear that terrible night two years ago.

But decisions had needed to be made under extreme pressure, and decisions like that usually came with a price.

Sometimes though, when they were spooning in bed, or when Cody came up behind Demetrius and put his arms around his waist, Cody would place a soft kiss in the center of the scars without saying a word, as if trying to heal the past by soothing the present.

Demetrius squinted into the glare of the headlights and thought about his lighthouse comparison. Apt, he supposed, as the truck’s engine cut out and the headlights went dark. The driver’s door opened, triggering the interior lights which brought out henna highlights in Cody’s slightly shaggy brunet hair and cast shadows down his handsome face. The familiar zing of attraction went through Demetrius at the sight of his best friend turned husband, followed by the momentary fear that he was in the midst of a very realistic and long-running dream and would soon awaken to find out all of this had been fantasy.

If that were the case, he’d be heartbroken, but, boy howdy, what a hell of a fantasy it was.

Hey there.

Cody’s deep voice carried well through the night air, comforting and arousing.

Oh yes, in all this wide and crazy world, Demetrius could be certain of one thing: Cody Bower was definitely his lighthouse guiding him home.

Hey yourself.

Cody approached, and Demetrius scooted to the edge of the step to make room. He felt the heat coming off him, breathed in the familiar smell of his sweat and deodorant, overlaid with something stagnant. Then he heard the quiet and customary groan as Cody settled beside him.

You okay? Demetrius asked.

Cody gave a single nod as he stared at the house across the street, hands clasped between his long legs. I’m okay.

Want to talk about it some more?

I’m not sure what more to say. Demetrius could see in his expression how shaken up he was. I mean, this guy came out of nowhere, just stepped from the woods and in front of my truck. I couldn’t avoid him. Cody winced at the memory and looked away. I’ll never forget that sound. Never.

Demetrius rubbed Cody’s back, noting the dampness of his T-shirt. From sweat? He’d learned a lot the last few years, and one of those things was when he should stay quiet and let Cody get his thoughts together. The muscles in Cody’s back were loosening a bit under Demetrius’s attention, but he was still extremely tense.

I grazed him and he went down, and I ran right over him. Felt the passenger tires go… over him. Cody sighed and hung his head. I hit the brakes and got out and just stood there for a minute, afraid to go any closer. Afraid to, you know, make it even more real. Then he moved. He fucking moved, after I’d hit him and run him over. He actually got up to his knees, and then stood up. I couldn’t believe it. And I felt this crazy sense of relief, you know? Because I hadn’t killed him, and he was able to stand up, so I thought it would be… I thought he would be okay, and I would be off the hook.

A long silence followed. Demetrius continued to rub his back, pressing now and then against the knots of tension.

Then he turned his head and I saw his face. Like, really saw it. I mean, I’d glimpsed it when I’d hit him, but I was sure I’d been wrong. I had to be wrong. When he looked at me though… Cody shook his head and winced again. I was sure. He looked at Demetrius from the corner of his eye. It was George Clarke. He continued quickly, as if afraid to give Demetrius the opportunity to speak. I know it’s crazy, I know it makes me sound completely insane, but I was looking at Mayor George I-fucking-died-last-week Clarke. A quiet and humorless laugh followed with a scoffing and almost scornful sound of disgust. I thought I was going crazy. Actually, I think I still am.

For the record, Demetrius said, pausing the movement of his hand and resting his forehead against Cody’s shoulder. I don’t think you’re crazy at all.

Cody sighed and kissed the top of Demetrius’s head. Thank you, he muttered into his thinning hair.

Demetrius lifted his head and resumed rubbing Cody’s back. You said he attacked you?

Fuck, yeah, he did. I went back to the truck to call the police, and he came after me. He reached inside the door, grabbing for me. He was making this weird moaning sound. Demetrius felt a shudder go through him. I crawled over the console and went out the passenger door, and he came around the truck to get to me. I ended up in the fucking drainage ditch. Again.

I thought I smelled something familiar.

Cody gave him a tired smirk. Wasn’t the same without you there.

No offense, but I’m glad I missed out on this one.

You should be.

So what happened? Did anyone else see him? Did Lucia come out?

Cody sighed. No, she must have had the night off to sharpen her claws and fangs. I was treated, instead, to the next worst person.

Demetrius’s belly tightened as guilt went through him like a flash fire. Oh, no.

Oh, yes. Deputy Ryan Zellmer, in all his grudge-holding glory. He didn’t see any sign of the good and dead mayor, and he really put me through the paces with every field sobriety test he learned in sheriff deputy college.

Ugh. You really have had a shitty night.

It wasn’t shitty until I left the bar. Jugs and I got those three jobs done, and then we had a good dinner at the Hollow Leg. After that, all hell broke loose. And I mean that literally.

I’m not doubting you or trying to change your mind or anything, but…

Cody looked at him, his expression tight. I’m sure it was the mayor.

Demetrius groaned. But how could that be?

I don’t want to fucking know.

You know what this means, right?

We’re going to move to California and forget about this cursed town?

Demetrius laughed and linked his arm through Cody’s as he scooted in close. Not even a little bit. I love Parson’s Hollow. And you do too, deep down.

It goes down deeper with every weird monster we stumble across.

But it’s there, I know it is. Demetrius gave his arm a squeeze. What this means is we need to go by the cemetery tomorrow and check out the mayor’s grave.

Why?

Demetrius released his hold on Cody and leaned back. What do you mean?

I mean, why does it have to be us? Why can’t the sheriff’s department step up and take it on?

The sheriff’s department helped a lot when Nicolae was running rampant turning people into werewolves.

Cody grunted.

And you said Ryan didn’t see the mayor, right?

Right, of course not. Cody waved a hand toward the dark street. Our recently deceased mayor is roaming around the woods somewhere, waiting to lurch out in front of another unsuspecting driver, and I’m the only one who’s seen him.

Which is why you and I need to go to the cemetery tomorrow, Demetrius said. No one else is going to take this seriously, you know that. We’ve been through stuff like this before. We know what to look for and what kind of evidence we’ll need to prove it to other people.

We do? I don’t recall us going up against zombies in the last few years.

Well, true, this is definitely a first.

I don’t want it to be a first, Cody said. I don’t want to get involved at all. Zombies are gross and smell bad. They’re dangerous as fuck and completely gross.

You said gross twice.

That’s because they’re that fucking gross.

Cody’s voice had gotten