Deadly Destinations & Giveaway: Justin Gustainis’s Stan Markowski takes us to Scranton from HARD SPELL

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Today’s Deadly Destinations tour comes courtesy of Justin Gustainis's Stan Markowski, Detective Sgt. with the Supernatural Crimes Investigation Unit. You can read more about Stan in HARD SPELL available on July 26th from Angry Robot.  We’ll be visiting Scranton, PA, which, as Stan says, ‘[Is] a good place to live and raise a family — apart from vampires, werewolves, ghouls, wizards, and the occasional demon.’  Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book!  See details below

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Detective Sgt. Stan Markowski’s Guide to Haunted Scranton

by

Justin Gustainis

    This is the city — Scranton, Pennsylvania.

    It used to be a coal town, back in the days when anthracite was king.  That was a long time ago -- the last of the mines played out in the 1950s.  But people here are tough, and they learned to adapt.  Today, Scranton’s got a healthy economy based on light industry, tourism, and retail.  They've cleaned out a lot of the culm banks left by the mines, too.

     It's a good place to live and raise a family — apart from vampires, werewolves, ghouls, wizards, and the occasional demon.

     Scranton's got a "live and let unlive" relationship with the supernatural, just like everyplace else.  But when a vamp puts the bite on an unwilling victim, or some witch casts the wrong kind of spell, that's when they call me.

     My name's Markowski.  I carry a badge.

     Also a crucifix, some wooden stakes, a big vial of holy water, and a 9 mm Beretta loaded with silver bullets.

     I was never a Boy Scout, but "be prepared" is still a good motto to live by.  Especially if you plan to keep on living.

     America’s been coming to terms with what law enforcement calls the "supernatural element" for more than fifty years.  It hasn’t always been a real smooth adjustment.

     You can find supes everyplace now, but they’re not evenly distributed.  There’s lots in the big cities, of course.  A big population means more potential “blood donors” if you’re a vamp, a bigger client base if you’re a witch or wizard for hire, and more to eat if you’re a ghoul.  It’s true that some, like the werewolves, used to settle in mostly rural areas – better to hide in, I guess, and farm animals are easier prey than people.  But even that’s changed now.

     Scranton’s got about 75,000 people, which puts it about midway between New York City and Hicksville.  But there’s an awful lot of supes here, relative to the population.  Nobody understood why that was, until 1966.  That was when a couple of profs from the local college, the University of Scranton, figured out that a whole bunch of ley lines intersect in the Wyoming Valley.  Several of them come together right here in Scranton.

     It’s not known for sure where ley lines came from – there’s four or five major theories, and every one makes my head hurt.  But all the experts agree they exist.

     They’re a powerful source of magical energy, ley lines.  The more lines intersecting, the stronger the energy.  Passon and Warner, the professors, proved that there are four points in and around Scranton where at least ten different ley lines come together.  That’s kind of a big deal, in magical terms.  Or so they say.

     The intersecting ley lines are like a magnet for supes, which explains why we’ve got so many.  They were drawn here over the years, even if they didn’t realize why.  Weres, vamps, ghouls, witches, trolls, you name it.  We’ve got ‘em all in Scranton.

     Lucky us.

     The Supernatural Crimes Investigation Unit, which everybody calls the "Supe Squad," is located in the basement of Police H.Q.  There's no windows down there, but none of us mind.  You never know what might get out through a window when you're not looking.  Or what might get in.

     I pull the night shift, which is the busiest time for our kind of work.  I've racked up enough seniority to get whatever shift I want, but I work the graveyard (yeah, I know) because I like the action.

     The boss is Lieutenant McGuire.  They say his wife was grabbed by a gang of werewolves years ago, and that McGuire tracked them down, all by himself.  When he left the house where they’d been hiding, there wasn’t a creature alive inside, including McGuire’s wife, who was found with a silver bullet in her brain.

     McGuire always claimed it was a stray shot that killed her.  But there are stories about that – rumors, really. Stories that one of the weres had already bitten her, that she was infected with lycanthropy.  Some of the stories say that she begged him to do it.

     It might be true.  McGuire's an okay guy and a good boss, but he's got a darkness about him that has nothing to do with the fact that he doesn't see much sunlight.

     Despite whatever may have happened in the past, McGuire's no vigilante.  He plays by the rules.

     But may Almighty God help any supe who breaks them.

     It's not against the law to be a supernatural creature, or to engage in most kinds of occult rituals and practices.  But there are laws concerning all that stuff.  The bottom line for supes is the same one that applies to humans: you can't hurt anybody, unless they give consent, and you'd be surprised how many do.  But there are rules about that, too.

     In Scranton, there’s no shortage of what my mom used to call beer gardens.  There are straight bars and supe bars.  That doesn't mean a supe can't walk into any joint in town for a beer (or a Bloody Mary – with or without real blood), assuming he's of age and has the money to pay for it. Discrimination's against the law.  Anyway, no bartender’s going to refuse to serve somebody who might come back during the next full moon and tear his throat out.

     But most supes prefer the company of their own, and the biggest supe bar in town is Renfield's on Wyoming Avenue.  I've been there plenty of times.

     My partner and I stopped by there one night last week, hoping to get some information on a new wizard in town who’s been causing a lot of trouble.  The place was busy when Karl and I walked in a little after 3:00 a.m.  Supe bars usually stay open all night and close at dawn, for obvious reasons.

     You'd think we might get a hostile reception in a place like that, but you'd be wrong.  Cops on the Supe Squad spend as much time investigating crimes committed against supes as we do on crimes with a supe perpetrator, and the supe community knows that.  If a cop is fair in his dealings with them, the supes remember.

     And if he's not fair, they remember that, too.

     I try to be fair, even when dealing with vamps.  I really hate bloodsuckers, but you can’t let your personal views get in the way of your work – it’s not professional.  And I’m always professional.  Well, almost always.

     We got nods of welcome from a couple of ogres sitting in a corner, and a quiet wave from a werewolf we knew.  The rest of the customers ignored us, or pretended to.

     Elvira was tending bar, like she usually does on weeknights.  That's not her real name, of course.  But she's tricked out like that vamp wannabe who got famous hosting bad horror movies on TV.  Like the original, our Elvira's got boobs big enough to look good in the low-slung dress that's part of the get-up, and I bet that cleavage of hers is good for a lot of tips.

     When she slinked over, I ordered a ginger ale for myself and a seltzer for Karl.  That thing about no booze on the job may be a cliché, but it's also a rule.  

     Besides, if I was going to drink, I wouldn't do it in a supe bar, despite my good relations with most of the locals.  There’s always the chance that I’d get careless and have one too many.

     A circus animal trainer may get along pretty well with the lions, tigers, and leopards in his act, but he'd be a fool to turn his back on them.

     If any of you urban fantasy fans are ever in Scranton, be sure to look me up.  I’ll take you out for a drink some night – but not in Renfield’s.

     I usually finish my shift around dawn.  Sometimes, as I leave City Hall, I like to stand for a minute on the top step and watch the sun rise over the city.

     I know that Scranton's not a big deal like New York or San Francisco.  But I still like the way the skyline looks at dawn.

     It's not a big town.  And the way most people figure these things, it's not a great town, either.  But it's my town.  And protecting it from the forces of darkness is my job.

     My name’s Markowski.  I carry a badge.

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About Justin Gustainis

Justin Gustainis was born in Northeast Pennsylvania in 1951. He attended college at the University of Scranton, a Jesuit university that figures prominently in several of his writings. After earning both Bachelor's and Master's degrees, he was commissioned a Lieutenant in the U. S. Army. Mr. Gustainis currently lives in Plattsburgh, New York, and is a Professor of Communication at Plattsburgh State University. Visit Justin Gustainis online: Website

Want to read more from Justin Gustainis?

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Giveaway provided by Justin Guststainis

One copy of HARD SPELL by Justin Gustainis

 
Available on July 26, 2011 from Angry Robot

Description:

Stan Markowski is a Detective Sergeant on the Scranton PD's Supernatural Crimes Investigation Unit.

Like the rest of America, Scranton's got an uneasy 'live and let unlive' relationship with the supernatural. But when a vamp puts the bite on an unwilling victim, or some witch casts the wrong kind of spell, that's when they call Markowski. He carries a badge. Also, a crucifix, some wooden stakes, a big vial of holy water, and a 9mm Beretta loaded with silver bullets.

Read an excerpt

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