“What’s going on?” she managed to ask.
Peter’s expression was that of puzzlement. The blonde giggled and whispered something into Peter’s ear, causing him to smirk.
“What are you doing, Peter?” Rochelle asked.
“Listen, I don’t know why you’re here or what you’re expecting, but my friend and I are about to leave.”
“Take me with you,” Rochelle found herself saying. “Please.”
Peter shook his head. “Two’s company, three’s a pain in the ass. Best of luck to you.”
Rochelle’s momentary confusion disappeared. It was a grim epiphany; she was out, the pert young blonde was in. Peter saw her expression and chuckled.
“Aw, baby, don’t be glum; you’ve always got your husband,” Peter said.
Rochelle responded by reaching into her shoulder bag and coming out with a revolver. The same revolver that Peter had given to her as a birthday present. She shot him twice in the groin. The blonde screamed and tried to run but Rochelle shot her in the back. She then calmly shot Peter in the head as he lay writhing on the ground and then did the same to the girl.
She tossed her suitcases in Peter’s truck and drove it back to her residence. Gil was still watching the same newsfeed. Rochelle noticed he had opened a second bottle of wine. He barely glanced at her when she walked inside.
“Gil, we need to leave,” she said.
She repeated herself twice before Gil pulled his attention from the television and stared at her with vacant eyes. Rochelle swore at him and then slapped him. His eyes widened and he grabbed the side of his face.
“Why did you do that?” he asked.
She was tempted to leave him, but she instinctively knew she could not do this alone.
“Pack your stuff, idiot,” She swore and went to a closet and began throwing some of his clothing at him. They were packing a second suitcase when she heard gunfire, an indicator it was time to go. Grabbing Gil with one hand and a suitcase with the other, she dragged him to the truck. He never asked where the truck or the supplies came from, nor did he ask about the hunting cabin in Seneca Caverns.
Their remote location kept them from getting infected and safe from murdering marauders. Even so, they had few survival skills and were nothing but skin and bones when a scouting team found them. They readily agreed when asked if they wanted to relocate to Mount Weather. A short time later, they were transferred to Marcus Hook.
Rochelle began scheming almost immediately and soon manipulated her way into the presidential election with her husband running as her vice president. Through an intensive propaganda campaign of vicious smears and lies that would’ve equaled any mud-slinging politician from the past, she won by a narrow margin.
She began executing her agenda the day after the election. She sent word to Abe Stark that if he wanted to make her wait two months for her to be inaugurated, she was going to evict him from Mount Weather. Abe was a defeated man and had recently been informed he was exhibiting symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. He no longer wished to play the political game. He made a back-door agreement to cede the office early if she guaranteed he would never be evicted.
When the alert went up that Rochelle and her entourage disappeared, Gil wasted no time. He travelled to Mount Weather the next day and immediately took charge.
“Please come in,” Gil greeted when the O’Malley brothers arrived. He was dressed casually in gray sweatpants, an old white tee shirt, and an oversized green sweater. He was flanked on both sides by a husband-and-wife team who looked like they both competed in Willie Nelson lookalike contests. Both were armed with pump action Mossberg shotguns.
Logan and Liam took seats at the opposite end of the table. They nodded toward the others who were present. Gil wasted no time.
“I’m happy to see you two made it back safely. Would you two like some hot cider to warm the bones before we get started?” he asked but did not wait for an answer. “Grace, be a dear and fix them up.”
Grace complied and filled two glasses from a stainless-steel jug. When she handed Logan his glass, her hand lingered, which caused a stirring deep in him. Logan had long been a committed bachelor, but Grace evoked emotions in him he did not realize he had.
William Rhinehart did not wait and leaned forward in his chair. “Do you men have anything?”
He was not normally a pleasant man, but Liam was currently living with his daughter, Priss, and even the old man had to admit that Liam was good for her. He was once the senator from Ohio, and after Abe Stark had taken over as president, he had worked himself into the position of vice president. He was an old man now, but that did not quell his ambitions. He strongly believed he should be president. Having a tough son-in-law would certainly be an asset, should he ever be able to realize his dreams.
Logan glanced at Grace before speaking. She saw Logan’s solemn expression and knew the news would not be good. Indeed, the brothers knew what they were about to say was going to drastically change the course of events in the community of Mount Weather, and perhaps the history of the United States of America. They had rehearsed what they were going to say on the drive back. Logan took a sip of cider before gently setting the glass on the table.
“We have found President-elect VanAllen and the three women in her entourage,” he said. “Out near Frederick. They were murdered and then placed in their van, whereupon it was set on fire in an apparent attempt to cover up the crime.”
Grace emitted a gasp, as did Ruby, the female bodyguard. Gil inhaled sharply and his features darkened, but amazingly he kept his emotions in check. “Are you certain?”
“With a reasonable degree of certainty, yes,” Liam answered. He glanced around at the other people present. Most were stoic. He could see Senator Connie Nelson’s jaw muscles working. Liam knew the man was already calculating how he could use this to his advantage. Logan saw it too.
“We have made a preliminary examination, but there is still much work to do,” he said.
“How were they murdered?” Bob Duckworth asked.
“Gunshots,” Logan answered with a poker face.
William Rhinehart cleared his throat. “Didn’t you say they were burned to death?”
“No, sir,” Logan answered. “They were murdered first and then they were loaded into their van. The van was then parked inside a garage of an abandoned house and set on fire.”
“How were you able to determine all of that?” Rhinehart pressed.
“We analyzed the scene and performed autopsies on the corpses,” Liam said. He finished his cider and helped himself to another glassful. He also topped off his brother’s glass while ignoring the incredulous looks.
“Excuse me, did you say you performed autopsies?” Connie asked.
“Yes, sir, we did,” Logan answered. “An autopsy is the preferred method for determining a probable cause of death. My brother and I are not doctors, obviously, but we’re cops. We’ve attended several autopsies in our time, and we know what to look for. For instance, the lungs of all victims bore no evidence of soot. If they were alive during the fire, they would have breathed in smoke. Also, neither their nasal passages nor their esophaguses…” he paused and glanced at Liam.
“The plural of esophagus is esophagi, brother,” Liam said. He gave Gil an apologetic expression. “Please have patience with my brother. Neither of us have eaten in several hours and he tends to swoon when he’s hungry.”
Logan gave his brother a brief scowl. “As I was saying, their esophagi had no soot nor any interior burning. Ergo, they were dead before the fire was started. We took pictures if anyone would like to have a look.”
“Interesting,” Connie said. “What other evidence did you find?”
“One or more nine-millimeter firearm was used,” Logan said. “Since we don’t have the means to perform ballistics examinations, there is no way to tell if they were shot with a single firearm or multiple firearms.
“Also, the snowfall has prevented us from finding the or
iginal crime scene, but one can speculate that it occurred somewhere along their route of travel. The interstate was near where they were found, so we are speculating that they stopped for some reason and that is when they were killed.”
“We are merely speculating, mind you,” Liam said, “but the van had no bullet strikes and it had not been wrecked, which would indicate it was stopped when the attack occurred.”
Gil VanAllen had been listening in silence. His only display of emotion were a few tears, which he had quietly wiped away with his shirt sleeve. When Logan had paused to take a sip of cider, he held up a finger.
“Yes, sir?” Logan asked.
“Where are the bodies?” he asked. “Did you bring them back?”
“We left them at the house,” Logan answered. “The cold air and snow will preserve the remains until they can be safely recovered.”
Liam grunted, which earned him a subtle look from Logan. He knew what his brother was thinking; each woman was burned beyond recognition. It didn’t matter if they were preserved or not.
Gil took the information in while biting his lower lip. After a moment, he held up a finger again. This time he did not wait for acknowledgement before speaking.
“Alright, but we’re going to make it a priority that they are brought back and not left for the zeds to eat.”
Nobody mentioned that zeds did not eat flesh that was burned and decomposed.
“They had a trailer in tow. I personally helped load it and hitch it to the van. Has it been recovered?” Gil asked.
“Excellent question, sir,” Logan said. “The trailer is missing. One may speculate that their assailants took the trailer. If it is located, it may help tremendously in the investigation.”
“I’ll send out a BOLO,” Grace said.
“No, don’t do that, sweetie,” Logan said, and then realized he’d called her sweetie in front of everyone. He cleared his throat. “I mean, what we’d like to do is keep that info secret and then we go around and visit the various communities to see if we spot the trailer.” He glanced around the room. “Keeping this information under your hats is essential. Otherwise, whoever has the trailer may dispose of it if they learn we’re looking for it.”
“Excellent idea,” Bob said. “I suggest we form up groups of people within this room and start going to the various communities first thing in the morning.”
“The snow is still falling, and we had a hard time getting back,” Liam said. “We may be snowbound for a few days.”
“We have to do something,” Gil said. “As acting vice president, I am authorizing every resource at our disposal to aid in this search.”
William Rhinehart, who was the acting vice president before the election, cleared his throat. “If I may point out, the Twenty-fifth Amendment dictates that when the president dies, the vacancy is immediately filled by the vice president.” He glanced around the room before resting his gaze on Gil. “Pending a formal ceremony, you are now, by law, the President of the United States.”
“He’s correct,” Connie said.
Gil acted surprised at this information, but then gave a thoughtful expression.
“We will need to have a formal swearing-in ceremony as soon as possible.”
Rhinehart agreed and called for a vote from the senators. It was unanimous. Some were reluctant, Bob Duckworth especially, but there was no legal alternative.
“You will also need to nominate a vice president,” Connie stated.
“Yes, yes, but we’ll get to that later,” Gil said. “Our next priority is Zachariah Gunderson.”
Gil waited for someone to speak. After several seconds, Connie tentatively raised his hand.
“His current whereabouts are unknown. Perhaps we should put out a BOLO on him and have our officers conduct a search.”
“Excuse me,” Logan said. “Maybe I missed something. Did you miss something, brother?”
“If you are referring as to why we are going to put out a BOLO on Zach, yes, I’m missing something as well,’ Liam said.
Gil suddenly jumped to his feet. “Are you two daft? He is the person responsible for assassinating the president!”
The two brothers remained calm. Liam finished off his cider before speaking. “Correct me if I am wrong, but we are still governed by the Constitution and our preexisting laws, are we not?”
“We are,” Bob said. “And in answer to your as yet unasked question, there is hardly enough probable cause to obtain a murder warrant against Zach.”
“We don’t need no stinking warrant,” one of the bodyguards said. Bob gave him a distasteful look.
“You go by D-Day, correct?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m called.”
“D-Day, we don’t need any commentary from someone who has no idea what they are talking about.”
D-Day’s expression turned ugly and he racked his shotgun. Before he knew it, Logan had jumped up and was pointing his handgun at him. Liam was only a fraction of a second behind him.
“Drop that weapon,” Logan growled.
Only a couple of people had ever seen this side of the O’Malleys. Normally, they were often joking around with everyone and playing the role of bumbling oafs, but their comedic personas belied the fact that these two brawny men were once veteran cops from the tough streets of Pittsburgh. They had also fought off both zeds and armed gangs when it had gone bad. They did not put up with bullies.
Gil saw this going bad quickly and held up his hands. “Here now, everyone needs to take a breath and calm down.”
Liam ignored him and walked over to D-Day. He then unceremoniously snatched the shotgun from his hands and unloaded it before turning to Gil.
“Mister President-Elect, if you want us as police officers, we’re going to enforce the law, and we aren’t going to let some Willie Nelson looking reject threaten a United States Senator with a loaded shotgun.”
Gil’s expression toward Liam was that of anger, but only for a microsecond. He then turned toward his bodyguard.
“D, you should know better. You two are here to protect me from violence, not hyperbole.”
D-Day glanced at his boss in confusion, but after the mandatory tough guy scowl at Logan, he lowered his head. “Sorry, boss,” he muttered.
“Gentlemen, please put away your weapons as well,” Gil said to the brothers.
They warily holstered their weapons and Logan placed the shotgun on the table in front of Gil. Gil waited for everyone to return to their seats before speaking.
“What is next in the investigation?” he asked.
“If the weather permits, we’ll go retrieve the bodies first thing in the morning and look around the area. Maybe we’ll find something. And, as soon as possible, we are going to travel to Marcus Hook and talk to people. In the meantime, I believe we are finished with our briefing. We’d like to go eat before they close down the kitchen for the night,” Logan said.
Logan started to stand but Gil held up a finger. “There is one other item of business before you leave. You two did not exactly express your thoughts about Mister Gunderson being the culprit in this crime.”
The brothers exchanged another glance. They knew this was coming as well. Logan took a breath and adjusted himself in his chair.
“At the present time, there is no evidence to indicate he was involved in the murder,” he said. “I’m not saying he didn’t do it, but right now we have nothing to indicate he did. That may change as the investigation develops. We are going to take it one step at a time.”
“He needs to be brought in for questioning. At the minimum, he needs to be charged with grand larceny,” Gil said.
Liam cleared his throat. “Mister Vice President, or Mister President, I’m not sure exactly how to address you so please forgive me, but first, nobody seems to know where Zach is currently, and second, what are you alleging he stole?”
“He drove out of here with a semi-truck pulling a trailer full of property, along with a pickup truck.”
Bob interrupted. “If I may, as far as anyone has been able to determine, everything he left with was personal property belonging to the Gundersons. It is possible that there is an item or two that might be considered property of Mount Weather, but it’s not like we have not stocked people with provisions when they have decided to leave Mount Weather. Zach and his family should not be treated any differently.”
Gil was not swayed. “I will reiterate, Gunderson is to be arrested for the assassination of the President of the United States as soon as possible.”
He leaned forward in his chair.
“I want him found and brought in, gentlemen.”
Zombie Rules | Book 8 | Who The Hell Is That? Page 3