by Tammy Bird
In the end, he was forced to take them both. Killing Roger was the only way to save him. It was his hardest kill and his sweetest. He remembered inhaling deeply as Roger exhaled for the last time. His whole body tingled, and a warmth spread from his gut outward until every finger, every toe, every hair on his head felt alive and warm with Roger’s essence. It was like killing himself. Like taking all of the pain his aunt left behind, living in his own skin, and excising it. It was beautiful, and he thanked Roger profusely for allowing him to breathe, if only for a moment, pain free. He hadn’t climaxed with him as he had with all of the others. He was thankful for that, a reaffirmation in his mind that he was doing the work of a greater power, but he had held him for a very long time as tears streamed down his face, as Roger convulsed and bled out in his arms.
Chapter Ten
Thursday, November 22, 2018
Elizabeth lay motionless, silent. She stared into the darkness through a small sliver between her eyelids and tried to separate the shadow that must be in front of her from the surrounding onyx of the room. It was a darkness profounder than she had ever experienced, a dark that stabbed into her chest, the pain as sure and real as if it were a knife plunged deep in search of vital organs. She heard breathing. She strained harder, but she couldn’t make out a shadow.
“I’m going to turn the light on now, Elizabeth.”
She struggled to keep her eyes open as light emerged from the womb of darkness. Even in its dimness, it burned. The grungy light splashed off a puddle where she urinated under the cover of darkness hours before. How many times has he been here? Twice? Three times? Four? She couldn’t remember. Her mind reeled. Her neck ached. The air tasted gray, like the walls and floor in the empty room, sans the mattress she lay on, and her throat felt filled with lint. She remembered a shot in her neck and darkness. More came to her in bits. They found my mom. He blames her.
She expanded the squint, tried to enlarge her area of sight. The light was faint and hazy, but still it stung against the pure darkness she was in for what felt like days. He wasn’t where she assumed he would be. Where are you? I know you’re here. She moved slightly, eyes more open with each small movement. She tried to maintain the look of sleep in the windowless monochrome room. She hoped he would think she was only restless, still far away from the reality of this room, of him. No human form to her right, only an open doorway. She rolled to the left, chain clinking against chain. The sound startled her. Her eyes came fully open. There was nothing to the left. What the fuck?
And then another click by an invisible hand. And darkness.
Chapter Eleven
Katia turned onto Johnston Road a few minutes after one. The blacktop ended abruptly at the entrance to a large, dirt, parking area. She turned her car into a spot next to a trailer with the acronym CAMET on the side and the full, “Companion Animal Mobile Equipment Trailer” spelled out underneath. It was the trailer the brother and sister team parked on Buxton Beach for two full days while one body after another was uncovered.
She felt tears threatening. She reprimanded herself in the rearview mirror and wiped the corners of her eyes. “There’s too much to do.”
Images of the bright purple shoe and leg and partial torso blended together in her head. She needed to walk through what happened, and Paige seemed a good person to help her. The two were obviously in synch. Paige’s text message inviting her to the facility came concurrently to the thought of texting the woman to ask if she was available.
Come on up to the facility. Training until one. Bring spoons.
Katia responded to Paige’s text immediately. Perfect. Be there at one—spoons in hand.
CU then. Paige’s reply quickly lit up her screen. And then again. Invite Zahra?
K, she typed back. Texting her now.
Katia looked over at Frankie. “I’ll be back for you shortly, puppy face.” She cracked all four windows and cut the engine.
The part of the training facility into which she entered looked to be part training hub, part office. She stood in the open doorway and observed the class and her surroundings. Two desks faced a string of whiteboards that listed the names of dogs and their proficiency in crucial basic skills. A dog-sized obstacle course of brightly colored ladders and balance beams crisscrossed the room. There were ramps and walkways of varying material and texture: metal, wood, and what looked to be sandpaper. Tin cans dangled from strings, and plastic-tube tunnels snaked around the room.
At the front of the facility, Paige stood with a group of eager students being dusted with a powder by her brother. “The powder simulates contamination,” Bob said. “It will show up in black light.” He finished the last trainee and returned to Paige’s side.
“How many of you believe you put on your protective gear properly today?” Paige asked. She pointed to Bob, who in turn held up a black-light stick.
Katia found Paige’s question ominous, as was her look around the room. You’re fucked. The students looked at one another and down at their own gear. Most nodded as Paige made eye contact. A particularly cocky one said, “Yes,” and, “Nothing’s getting through this gear.”
“Okay, peel off that protective equipment.” Paige walked up and down the row of students. “Who wants to go first?”
One by one, the students untied, unwrapped, and stepped out of their gear. One by one, they walked over to the black light. Patches of white appeared on hands and arms, chests and legs, faces and hair.
“If this was a real site and there was real contamination, you could be dead,” Paige said. She pointed to one of the students and then at another. “And you. And you.” The students nodded and thanked Paige for another great class.
Katia leaned on the doorjamb and observed. She liked Paige’s seemingly fearless and straightforward attitude.
A few minutes after dismissing the class, Paige made her way to Katia and the two women left Bob in the main facility and headed back the way Katia had come.
“What’s in there?” Katia pointed to a building to the left of the one they just exited. She thought Bob said when she was here last year, but she no longer remembered what was where. And she needed a way to start conversation.
“That’s the cadaver scent training lab.” Paige looked over at Katia. “Want a tour?”
“No. Not today, anyway. Fascinating concept, but my new-experience meter has expired, and I’m out of quarters.”
“Indeed.” Paige smiled at her. “Fascinating. Once you get used to the smell. All dogs start in the big room where we were. Then they move into the cadaver room.”
“Sounds charming,” Katia said. “Speaking of dogs.” Katia nodded toward her car a few feet away.
The two continued an easy banter as they reached the car and Katia retrieved the wiggling dog. She felt at ease with Paige in a way she hadn’t expected.
“Join us anytime,” Paige said. “Bring your new attack pup.” She winked and tickled the top of Frankie’s head. He twisted in Katia’s arms. He obviously enjoyed the scratch and wanted to get closer to the fingers that supplied it.
“Funny,” Katia said. “And he isn’t mine. At least not yet. Probably not at all. My dad is going to spaz out. He doesn’t like animals in the house.”
“Ever?” Paige scrunched her face.
“Nope.” Katia shrugged. “Can’t miss what you never had, I guess.”
“I can’t imagine not having a dog.” Paige scratched Frankie’s head again. “Zahra texted. She’ll be here soon. She’s dropping something at the lab.”
“What?” She and Zahra had texted back and forth, and Zahra had said nothing.
“No idea. That’s all she said.”
“Why only one road through all of this land?” Katia asked.
Her attempt to steer the conversation away from pets and the warm fuzziness they produced in households worked. Paige launched into a mini, family-history lesson. Katia was grateful and genuinely curious.
“My great
-grandpa was a barnstormer after World War I,” Paige said. “Offered airplane rides, aerobatic flight demos, impromptu airshows. A lucrative undertaking, so the story goes.”
Katia nodded.
“He bought this land piece by piece.” Paige made a sweeping motion with her arm.
Obviously, the woman was proud of her great-grandfather. Katia turned her head slightly and smiled at Paige.
Paige smiled in return. Her gestures continued. “Left all of it to his only son, my gramps, who put in the road. Guess blacktopping was expensive, especially for a road that’s a half-a-mile long.”
“My dad would have a field day with all of the open space here,” Katia said. “It’s a builder’s dream. And he would have roads in every direction.” She used her free hand to point in several directions.
“And you? Would you have roads in every direction?”
“Me? Not so much. I like space.”
“Me, too. Boys and their toys, I guess.” Paige shrugged. “Gramps loved a nail and hammer, too. Did a lot of the work through here. He used to tell me stories of the land when he got it, his dream of expanding until he owned all of Manteo.” Paige chuckled.
“What happened?”
“He and granny had four boys and a girl. Costs a pretty penny, he used to say. Guess work and time evaporated the dream. Who knows?”
“His kids all own one?” Katia indicated the houses to their left as she turned her body all the way around before falling back into step with Paige.
“One didn’t make it to adulthood, a boy, Robert. Bob’s named after him. The others all built along the road. My daddy had me and Bob. My uncles and aunts had two or three apiece. Gramps would have liked them to have more. He used to say, ‘Plenty of room for more. Pick a piece of sand, and we’ll buy some wood.’”
Katia smiled. Her father would have liked Paige’s grandpa.
“I chose to have my house built closer to Great-grandpa Johnston’s original house.” Paige pointed back off of the road to a small plank house, obviously old, but not forgotten. “I keep it up, use it for storage mostly. It makes me smile. You can see where planes landed over and over again if you get closer. Everyone else was building farther away. I kind of felt like someone should want to be closer.”
The women slowed as they came to the last house on the narrow road. “This one’s mine. That one down there is the one Great-grandpa Johnston helped build for Gramps and Granny.”
“Does anyone live there now?” Katia thought the house looked lived in when she passed. You couldn’t grow much in the sandy soil, but someone had tried, had taken the time to put old half-barrels out front with geraniums.
“Gramps and Granny are gone now. Granny last year. I took care of her here until the end.”
“Sorry.” Katia glanced over at Paige. “I know the pain of losing someone you love that much.” Her mom’s face popped into her head. She missed her every day.
“Me. too, but she had a good life. She was ready. I miss her, though. Like, a lot. Anyway, we rented it to one of the trainers at the facility. Actually, a lot of the houses along here are rented out now. People move. Even family, you know? Gramps built mine. I chose where. It was his gift to me.” She smiled and shrugged, leaning forward slightly. “It’s a two-bedroom. He wanted to make it bigger. For a family, he said. I told him big houses make me nervous. They do. But so do kids.” She laughed, shrugged again.
Katia wondered if it was a nervous habit. Guess there’s a real person behind that tough, crime-scene, business-only, persona.
“I don’t want any kidlets, myself. Just my pups.” Paige looked at Katia. “That’s it for me. Pups. How about you, Katia? You want kids?”
“Me? Hadn’t really thought about it. Not particularly. I’ve got my brother, Marco. He’s autistic. Smart. Cute as hell. And probably mine forever.”
The two women stood in front of the door for a moment and stared at the row of houses.
“Ready to go in?” Paige motioned for Katia to go first.
Katia noticed Paige avoided further comment on children, or siblings. She tucked that away for another time. For now, the women had more-pressing matters.
They chatted easily as Paige washed up from her training session and filled a bowl of water for Frankie.
When the doorbell rang, Katia felt a tinge of sadness. She was enjoying the normalcy of the moment. “Maybe we can ignore it?”
Paige lowered the water bowl to the tiled floor. She stood and shook her head. “Nope.”
“Fine.” Katia stuck her tongue out at her. She stood close to the table in the small kitchen and listened to the front door open and shut.
Paige and Zahra rounded the corner and joined Katia near the small kitchen nook.
“I know I’m the bearer of shitty news,” Zahra said. “I did bring coffee, though.” She held up a carrier with three of its four cardboard slots filled with cups of steaming coffee. “Straight from the local coffee shop.” A Cup of Inspiration was one of the few businesses that stayed open year round in the tourist-centered area.
Paige glanced from the coffee to Zahra and back again. “Coffee buys you a pass,” she said. “Sit. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The three women sat in Paige’s cozy kitchen. Katia liked the way the nook sat tucked away inside the warm soft yellows that surrounded them on all but one side. It felt safe, secure. Her own kitchen with its beach-blue walls and large picture window was built to bring the outside in, and right now, that was the last thing she wanted.
“So?” Katia looked at Zahra. “What has the world of sterile, white rooms and little, silver knives brought us today?”
Zahra ignored Katia’s nervous attempt at morbid humor. She opened the brown flap on her leather briefcase, pulled out a small stack of papers, and set them on the table between them. “You guys know we have fourteen confirmed.”
“Fourteen.” Katia stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee and repeated the word. It was surreal.
Paige nodded. “At least we didn’t find any more yesterday. What we have is what we have.”
“Not a lot of reportable information, yet,” Zahra said. “Five days isn’t a lot of time to review, you know? There isn’t anything else I can do in Greenville. The specialists are doing their thing. It’s all crazy.” She paused, bit at her lower lip. “They’re nowhere near finished in the bone room, yet. Additional specialists got there this morning.” She reached over and took the sugar bowl before she continued. “Her team will be able to give us more information soon.”
Paige nodded. “Might as well dig in.” She raised the top sheet of the papers on the table and began to read out loud from left to right. “Name: Unknown. Decomp: Completely skeletonized. Age: Thirty-five plus.”
There were several notes. The most jarring concerned the only male identified. “He was buried in the side of the same dune, above and behind the unnamed woman. The exact coordinates were also noted, as were identifying markers.”
“A lot of unknowns,” Zahra said. She looked from Paige to Katia. “Like I said, they haven’t even started on the most decayed.”
Paige didn’t look up. She continued to read aloud. “Name: Helen Whitaker.”
Katia knew the name. Her body reacted, sending a chill from her shoulders to her fingertips. She set her cup down, but not before a trail of coffee slid over the side and onto the table. She pushed her chair back and rose. “I’ve heard people talk about her. She disappeared from around here in like 1980.”
“Eighty-three,” Zahra said. “We got a hit on her dentals. Story is she was a recluse. Weirded people out, especially kids.”
Katia returned to the table, paper towels in hand. “My mom said she used to have something sticking out of her yard with a cloth wrapped around it. Kids thought it was something to do with witchcraft. Turns out it was an old pipe contraption of some kind.”
“Witchcraft. Idiots.” Paige looked right at Katia. “Another reason I
don’t want kids.” She scrunched her nose and gnarled up her fingers for effect.
“I thought humor wasn’t allowed,” Katia said. She balled up one square of the paper towel and threw it toward Paige.
“Humor without knives is acceptable.” Paige lobbed the remark and the paper towel back in return.
“Humor with spoons.” Katia said. Paige would understand the reference to their beach discussion.
“Spoons?” Zahra reached for the ball of paper that bounced from Katia’s glasses onto the table. “Is that a secret code or something?”
Katia dodged Zahra’s throw. She balled up another paper towel.
“Spoons are what we don’t have enough of to battle this monster.” Paige was on her feet. She retrieved the ball of paper from the floor.
Soon the three women were on their feet.
Zahra pulled an invisible sword from her hip and aimed at one and then the other woman. “Touché, and touché.” Despite the solemn air around them, the three women danced around the small room in an imaginary sword fight.
It felt good to be in this moment with these women.
When finished, they settled back into their seats.
“Will the world ever be normal again?” Katia asked. The contradiction of feel good neurotransmitters and the pain of loss made her insides contract and expand rapidly.
The question sucked the momentary happiness out of the air. No one spoke.
Frankie, who bounced around the women a moment before, moved to Katia’s side.
“You want up here again, boy?” Frankie’s tail wagged. “Well, come on.” She pushed her chair slightly back from the table and patted her legs.
Katia looked at her present company. “I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
“It’s all good.” Paige gave a half-smile. “This sucks.”
Zahra pointed to Katia’s lap. “What are you going to do with him?”