Authors Note: I wanted to try something a little different this time. As many of you know I write primarily police procedurals. This time I wanted to try my hand at something a little supernatural, and the result is the mess you see here. I think, in the future I will stick with what I know.

Knocking on Heaven’s Door
By Watchdog

It was a perfect night along state road 90 somewhere between Holt and Crestview Florida. Steve Panacheck stood beside his grey Ford LTD parked on the side of the road and admired the clear night sky. It was warm but not too hot, and the breeze carried a hint of lilac and jasmine. There was no reason for him to be parked here. No smoke poured from under the hood. No fluid leaked from the undercarriage. No mound of shredded rubber marking a newly departed tire. In fact a State Trooper would be very interested in Steve and his car, had there been one anywhere within 50 miles.

Steve took a drag on the cigarette in his mouth. The ember glowed red but the cigarette did not burn down. The radio in the car was playing softly, an old Eric Clapton classic. Steve took off his suit jacket and adjusted his shoulder holster. He took another drag on the cigarette and leaned against the fender of his car. He was waiting for something but he didn’t know what. In fact he didn’t even know how long he had been here. The last thing he remembered was eating biscuits and honey at a road side café when he caught site of the man he was tracking and took off after him. Steve was a Bond Enforcement Agent, commonly called a Bounty Hunter. He was here in Florida chasing a man who was not quite a man. Joseph Running Wolfe was a native American wanted for grand theft and assault out of Slidell Louisiana. Steve had tracked him to this little café outside of Holt Florida. Here is where things get interesting, Joseph Running Wolfe is what most people call a Werewolf. That is why Steve got the case. What Mulder and Scully did every week on TV, Steve did every day for real.

Steve pulled into the café parking lot and checked the case file on his laptop computer. He got out, walked around to the trunk and opened it. Inside was a large selection of all kinds of weapons. Steve selected a large, nickel plated Smith and Wesson model 686 revolver. He loaded it with .357 magnum silver tipped hollow point bullets and put two more speed loaders in his jacket pockets. Then he closed the trunk with a slam and went into the café. After looking around for a moment he took a seat near the door. Someone dropped a quarter in the jukebox and Lee Greenwood began playing God the Bless the USA.

A waitress who looked like she worked there since the place opened in the 50’s came to his table.

“What’ll it be sugar?” she asked in a thick southern accent.

“How’s the chicken fried steak?” Steve asked.

“It’s the best in the county.”

“Well then I can’t say no can I? Black coffee to drink please.”

“Have it right out.” then waitress said as she turned to go.

Steve didn’t like to drink coffee but after about five hours sleep in the last three days by god he need the caffeine. He took a good look around, long counter with two old men telling lies to each other, booths along the opposite wall, front door to his left, kitchen door at the end of the counter, and he guessed a back door in the kitchen some where.

“Joey, order in!” he heard the waitress yell, and as he looked at the window behind the counter he saw his quarry. He reached into has jacket and touched the magnum for reassurance. A few minutes later the waitress brought his order out.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“Just some honey if you have it.” Steve said.

The waitress reached behind her to another table and grabbed the honey bottle and put it in front of Steve. “Thank you.” Steve said and he attacked his meal with authority.

About ten minutes later Steve was just getting to his biscuits and honey when Joseph came out of the kitchen to clean tables. As he got closer to Steve’s table Steve got ready. He took out his wallet with his ID card and as Joseph got to his table Steve began to speak.

“Joseph Running Wolfe,” Steve said, “I hereby place you under arrest for failure to appear in…oofff..”

Joseph slammed Steve hard in the chest and sent him flying across the room.

“Why does it always have to be the hard way?” Steve muttered to him self as he got up and ran for the door. He made it outside just in time to see a rusty old Dodge truck roar by, Joseph at the wheel. Steve jumped into his Ford and took up the chase.

The next thing Steve remembered he was standing here, on the side of the road smoking. A truck passed by kicking up a cloud of dust and a warm air but the breeze never moved as much as a single hair on his head. As the truck passed he noticed a woman walking up the side of the road toward him. She wore all white. White slacks, white blouse, white jacket. Even her shoes were white. She was tall, with long dark flowing hair. There was a peace and serenity in her ocean blue eyes that was never there before. Steve would know. They are, or were married for the last ten years. No, that is not technically true. They were married for nine years, but that was before she was abducted and killed by a werewolf a little over a year ago.

“Don’t get me wrong Serena, I’ve missed you like hell, but why are you here. I thought you were dead.” Steve said as he straightened up.

“ I am Steve, and yes, I’ve missed you too.” Serena said.

As if to prove a point that Steve did not yet grasp, she moved close and embraced him. Steve returned the embrace and even kissed her on the forehead. It hasn’t yet dawned on Steve that he was hugging a woman that was supposed to be dead. In his mind he knew she was dead, but his heart hadn’t yet caught up.

“You know Steve,” Serena said as she broke the embrace, “ I have always been there, watching you, but there is a reason you can see me now.” Serena leveled a steady gaze at her husband. Her intense blue eyes locked on his confused brown ones. She could see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to put two and two together. Steve was a good investigator, but this was a little much to take in all at once.

Serena decided to take a different track. “Steve, why did you leave the Marshall’s Office?”

Steve had bee a U. S. Marshall in the Fugitive Apprehension Unit, and had been good at what he did. The other Marshalls had said that “If you want some one found, ‘Check’ marks the spot.” Check had been his nick name, shortened from Panacheck.

“I just lost all my drive. I didn’t see what I had to work for after you were gone.” Steve stopped there. Something seemed to register in his brain. Serena saw it too. He had finely put two and two together and came up with four. Serna was glad, but at the same a little sad. The man she loved was dead. Weather or not she was alive, she hurt for him.

“So…” he started. “So if I can se you, and touch you, that means that I’m dead too. Right?”

“Steve, I’m so sorry.” she said. “I never wanted this for you.”

“This is just a little much to take in.” he said with a sigh. “So, how’d I buy it.?”

Serena looked at Steve. She loved him more than life itself. No pun intended. She would never lie to him, but this was the hardest thing she ever had to tell him. He met her gaze unwavering in his resolve. She sighed, resigned to the fact that Steve had never been one to beat around the bush.

“Give it to me straight. What happened?” he prodded.

“What is the last thing you remember?” She asked.

The radio in the car seemed to turn itself up so they could both heat the song playing.

“Mama take this badge from me, I can’t use it anymore. It’s getting dark, too dark to see. Feels like I’m knocking on haven’s door.”

“Well, I was tracking a skip out of Louisiana and I follow his trail here to Holt. I had dinner in the little café he worked at. I knew that he was a wolf, that’s why I took the case.” He chuckled,

“I went in ready for a fight. I had a .357 magnum with silver loads. I thought I was ready. He caught me off guard, threw me across the room. The last thing I remember I jumped in my car and took off after him.”

“Do you remember anything else Steve?” Serena asked, concern in her voice.

“Not really, the rest is a little fuzzy. I don’t even remember lighting this cig..”

Serena pointed to the overpass about a quarter mile up the road. “There is where it happened. The bridge. Can you see it?”

Steve looked at the bridge for a long moment. “I can’t se it. It’s just all black. I can see past the bridge but when I try to look at it directly it blacks out.”

Serena thought about it for a minute, should she help him? He may not be ready to come to terms with his death. But he won’t be able to move on until he deals with it. He looked like he was trying hard to see it but he just couldn’t.

“Steve,” she said, “are you ready to deal with this?”

“I have to do this sooner or later ,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Lets do this. “What do I do?”

Serena stood up and moved beside him. “Steve, the trick is not to try. I know it sounds weird, but if you try to hard you won’t see it. Look past the bridge, then let your eyes unfocus. Like movie camera, look past it and then pull back till you can see it. It may take you a…”

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed.

“So you can see it already?”

“I really nailed it didn’t I. I must have really been moving.” he thought out loud.

“The State Troopers think you hit the bridge abutment at about ninety miles per hour. Your car just folded up.” she said.

Steve chuckled, “Yea, metal gets pretty pliable at those speeds. I guess I can assume I never walked away.”

“Pronounced dead at the scene.”

The full size Ford LTD was crumpled at the foot of the bridge support abutment. Skid marks in the road indicated the Ford tried to stop for some reason ant then swerved into the concrete bridge support. The door and part of the roof were cut open by the Fire Department to recover his body.

Eric Clapton continued to sing on the radio, “Mama put my guns in the ground, I can’t use them any more. That cold dark cloud is coming down, feels like I’m knocking on heaven’s door.”

“You know Steve, seeing your death scene is a big part of being able to move on. It took me a long time to come to terms with mine. That’s why I came here. To help you to cross over.”

Steve took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it, then he dropped it onto the pavement and ground it out under his shoe. “I guess now is as good time to quit as any. Those things will kill you.”

They shared a hearty laugh over that one. Steve stood up and opened the drivers door on his car, then paused. “You know Serena,” he said, “ You have always been the one who was able to keep me grounded. You always were the one to save me from myself, and here you are. Saving me yet again.”

I love you Steve. That will never change. I will do anything for you.”

“Then get in the car.” Steve said with a smile.