by Alexie Aaron
At the end of the hall, the elevator doors opened and closed like they were applauding her treatment. The orange-eyed demon looked down at Kiki and said, “We’re taking the stairs.”
Kiki twisted and grabbed at the doorjamb as they passed into the stairwell.
“Mind your head,” the demon rasped.
Kiki was tossed down a flight of stairs only to be picked up by another orange-eyed creature and tossed down the next set. It seemed like this went on for far longer than the hospital had floors. At the bottom, she saw Mimi. She was making out with Jesse.
“Mimi! Jesse!”
Both of them turned and looked down at her.
“You’ve got blood on your gown,” Mimi said, disgusted. “Really, Kiki, you ought to make more of an effort.”
“Help me! They’re taking me away!”
“Who?”
“Can’t you see them? Black demons with orange glowing eyes.”
“Sorry, no can see. Are they invisible like your so-called boyfriend?” Mimi asked, running her hands under Jesse’s shirt.
“Jesse, help me!”
He turned and put his hand to his ear. “I only answer to Scrub.”
Kiki didn’t get a chance to speak again as the floor fell out from under her. She scrambled to try to hold on to anything solid she passed on her way down.
A hand caught hers. At last, someone was saving her. The skin of the hand was patchy, barely covering the mechanical parts. “I’ve got you,” Marvin the Martian’s voice told her. Kiki felt herself being pulled up. She didn’t care that Jake was encased in this computer-run, mechanical body; he was her Jake, and he was saving her.
“Mind the virus,” the first demon warned.
Kiki watched in horror as Jake disintegrated into code. One minute, there was a man, the next, just zeros and ones. Kiki resumed her fall. When she had fully given into the fear that no one was going to save her, she stopped fighting. The ground rapidly rose up to greet her.
Thwap! She was caught up in someone’s arms. She looked up to see Cid looking down at her.
Kiki’s eyes shot open. The room was dark, but the familiar beep of the machine monitoring her IV bag, which needed changing, oriented her to the waking world in which she still existed. The nightmare was receding. But there was someone above her. “Who?”
“Are you alright?” Cid asked, looking down at her. “I just stepped out to notify the nurse that your IV bag was almost empty and found you thrashing.”
“I was having a hell of a nightmare. You’re here late.”
“Actually early. Your blinds are drawn so you could sleep more soundly. The staff said you were having trouble sleeping.”
“I remember now. It was the pain. I think they gave me something. I hope it wasn’t morphine.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I’m becoming addicted.”
“But you’ve only been on it since your operation.”
“Cid, I… I know I sound stupid, but I already thought I needed it. Evidently, to get through the night.”
The morning nurse bustled in with the new bag.
“What did they give me last night?” Kiki asked.
“One moment,” the nurse said and accessed the computer station. “Lunesta, it’s a sleep aid.”
“So, no morphine,” Cid confirmed.
“You requested that the morphine be discontinued.”
Kiki smiled. “Thank you. It gave me a hell of a nightmare, but I’m glad it wasn’t a pain reliever.”
“You may want to mention that to the doctor. Although, I think you’re scheduled to go home today. No more bleeps from these temperamental machines and visits from the bloodsuckers in the middle of the night.”
Cid laughed. He liked the lighthearted way the nurse made fun of the machines and staff. He watched her set up the new IV and then open the blinds to let the late-autumn sunshine in.
“Did you need something from me, Clark?” Kiki asked, mostly to get Cid’s attention off of the nurse and back onto her.
“Wayne wants you to sign paychecks,” he said, holding up the business check register. “Can she sign checks?” he asked the nurse.
“It’s been more than twenty-four hours after anesthesia, and she appears to be in her right mind.”
Kiki sat up and tried to clear the fog from the Lunesta. “I would be happy to sign them, as long as Walrus calculated them correctly.”
“I double-checked his work. He thought that, since the local workers didn’t ask to take yesterday off, we should still pay them. The acting managing contractors, however, have refrained from taking payment.”
“I appreciate that Cid, but you guys were working. Let me sign these, and then I’ll write out an additional three checks for yesterday. Hand me the iPad.”
Cid did as he was told and watched her calculate the taxes correctly before signing the checks. “Have Walrus enter these into the system.”
“Yes, boss. Is there anything else you need?”
“Could you stay for a few minutes?”
“Sure. But I don’t want to get in the way.”
“Clark, you’re hardly an inconvenience. I appreciate you stepping up.”
“Thank you.”
“How was your date last night?”
“Business meeting,” Cid corrected her. “I will be happy to fill you in once you’re home. Right now, you need to concentrate on all the instructions they are going to give you.”
“Heavens, that’s what I’m for,” Mimi said, waltzing into the room carrying a tray with four coffees on it and a bag from Pete’s Sweets. “Jesse said you were going to be here. That girly cup is for you. Honestly, why not just ask for sugar milk? Why spoil it with coffee?” she teased.
“I thought you drank it black?” Kiki asked.
“I…
“I bet he’s just being easy at work, but a pain in the ass at home,” Mimi interrupted.
“I can drink it either way,” Cid said.
“I find it interesting that Jesse knows how you take your coffee. Are you former partners? It would explain your disinterest in me.”
“Mimi!” Kiki scolded. “Sorry, Clark, she’s a bad loser.”
“Why do you call him Clark? Or Jesse Scrub? And Wayne Walrus, wait… I know, it’s because, with that mustache, he looks like a walrus. But Cid is no Clark.”
“Hold on,” Cid said and opened his wallet and drew out his contractor license. “This is me before my Lasik surgery.”
Mimi looked at the picture and said, “Damn, Clark Kent. So, that’s why the others call you Superman. I thought it was sexual.”
“Kill me now,” Kiki moaned.
“They call me Superman because I have heightened hearing, which I developed because I was half-blind most of my life.”
“Do you have X-ray sight?” Mimi asked, ducking comically behind a chair.
“Funny you should mention that… Kiki, Ted sent with me a prototype of a portable X-ray, the size of your iPad, that is supposed to detect organic material behind a wall. I think he was thinking plaster or drywall, but I’m sure it could be tweaked for the old bricks in Cabin 4.”
“Why did he make it to detect organic material?” Mimi asked, interested.
“Bees. Basically, bees and maybe mice and rats. But in Ted’s mind, it’s bees. He has this need to save the honeybees in America. He says most life on this planet is dependent on these insects.”
“We do find a lot of bee hives and wasp nests in the old buildings we deal with,” Kiki said. “What does Ted want us to do with them when we find them?”
“Relocate them.”
“How?” Kiki asked.
Cid put his finger up, pulled out his wallet, and thumbed through some business cards. He handed a card to Kiki. “Ted says to call this hotline. He’s set aside some funds to cover the cost of the bee rescuer.”
“Bee rescuer? Now I’ve heard everything. Horse whisperer, honeybee rescuer, what’s next, cockroach tamer?” Mimi scoffed.
“You’re very cynical for a third-grade teacher,” Cid observed.
“As long as I don’t bring it into the classroom, I can be as cynical as the next guy,” Mimi defended.
“Walrus and I talked about using our Faye asset to move through the barrier. Speak with him about the X-ray iPad,” Kiki insisted.
“What’s a fay asset? You don’t believe in fairies, do you Cid?”
“You’d be surprised what I believe in,” Cid answered. “Be they fay or fair folk, if they are on the side of good, they are welcome.”
Mimi twisted up her face, confused.
“We’re talking in code,” Kiki lied. “Remember, I have this mega-nondisclosure contract to abide by.”
“And you don’t trust me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Exactly.”
“Good. Because, frankly, I’m a sieve when it comes to secrets,” Mimi admitted. “I let people know right up front. This way they only have themselves to blame if they tell me a secret.”
“Mimi and her fine print,” Kiki said. “This is the girl I grew up with.”
The two women giggled, remembering something outrageous in their past.
“Well, I’m going to accept that coffee and take it to go. If you need anything, Mimi, don’t hesitate to call Jesse or Walrus,” Cid said and left.
“Come on. Did I deserve that?” Mimi asked Kiki.
“You know, I only know of one other time that Saint Cid burned anyone. It was me when I was being a colossal jerk. What a way to continue the family tradition.”
When Cid arrived, Jesse was overseeing the arriving workers, speaking with them about what had happened, handing out their assignments, introducing them to the three new security personnel, and answering questions.
“Are we safe?” a plasterer asked.
“May I answer that?” one of the guards asked.
Jesse nodded.
“I’m Jorge Garcia, formally an instructor in Navy SEAL Unit FOUR. On my side are retired Army Ranger Amy Dubois and Marty Newsom, former leader of the Albuquerque presidential protection detail. Combined, we have a lot of experience in handling the interesting and the mundane. We ask you to alert us to anyone who you do not recognize as a fellow craftsman. New workers will be vetted by us before hire. We are confident that we can identify any threat before it has a chance to act.”
This seemed to calm most of the group - while making a few of them paranoid - but such was the beast of security.
Amy Dubois’s solid frame and squared-off shoulders attested to her previous occupation. She wore her hair short and clipped back from her steely-gray eyes. Cid guessed her to be in her mid-forties as were the men of her security team. Jorge and Marty’s fit frames, height, and sharp dark eyes made them a formidable pair to deal with. Not that he underestimated the former army ranger. To be female and in the rangers meant more than equal opportunity; it meant that Amy had had to earn her place.
When the group had disbanded, Cid delivered the checks to Jesse. “Where’s Wayne?”
“He and Cam are following up on Faye’s lead.”
“How do I get there?”
“Go to the back of Cabin 4 and make a beeline from the cellar into the woods, follow the trail. Or use your phone. He’s at these coordinates.” Jesse held out his phone, and Cid read the information.
“Thanks, I won’t be long. I have to get started on my day job. My bosses are jerks.”
“Very funny,” Jesse said. “How was Kiki?”
“In the hands of her sister.”
“Ah, stressed.”
“More or less. I would expect her here tomorrow for a few hours.”
“Is that wise?”
“No, but it’s Kiki’s way.”
Cid followed the newly trampled path towards the place Luminosa told Faye about. The woodland was choked with the dead skeletons of small trees that had lost the fight for sunshine against the tall giants, whose deep scarred bark attested to their time on this earth. Stephen Murphy would not have let this happen. He would have taken the young saplings and placed them where they stood a chance of getting the nutrients they so needed. He would have also thinned the forest, taking out the dead so the living could take hold. Cid understood the value of having a forester tend the forest. “What is the forest without the loving hand of a keeper?” Cid said to the person who was tailing him a few yards back on the trail.
“Nothing but a fire hazard,” Amy Dubois said from behind him.
“I have a friend who has done wonders with the woodlands bordering my property,” he explained.
Amy caught up to Cid and put a restraining hand on his arm. “Look,” she said, pointing something out in the trees.
Cid followed her hand with his eyes and saw what he would have assumed was deadwood. A beautiful eight-point stag stood there staring at the two interlopers. “The Great Prince of the Forest.”
“Bambi’s father. Was he an eight pointer?” Amy asked.
“If my memory is correct… but then I’m not a hunter, so I could be counting them wrong,” Cid admitted.
“Not my usual prey, cartoon deer, or deer for that matter, but I’m going to agree with you.”
“It’s nice to be right for once,” Cid said. “Hello, I’m Cid Garrett.”
“Amy Dubois. I saw you at the meeting. Mind telling me what you’re doing out here?”
“Wayne and Cam are looking for some evidence. We got a tip something was buried at the old road marker. I’m not from here, so I’m following the trail, hoping it will take me to the old road.”
Amy looked beyond him and at the trail. She squatted down and looked at some footprints in the soft forest floor. “Two men, either carrying heavy equipment or are of good size.”
Cid was impressed. “The heavy guy is Wayne. Cam probably is carrying a mule’s weight in gear.”
“Mind if I tag along? Today, I’m on perimeter duty. I was headed to the forest road but got distracted when you took this path instead of the other one.”
“It’s a lot to watch over. I asked my boss at PEEPs to loan us a few more cameras.”
“Great, more camera feeds to watch,” Amy complained. “I’ve seen your show, Mr. Garrett. Pretty entertaining.”
“Thanks.” Cid stopped. “I hear shovels. Come on, this way,” he said, following the sound.
“I don’t hear anything,” Amy said but followed him regardless.
“My hearing is a little more sensitive.”
“That’s how you knew I was behind you.”
“Yup, you grind your teeth.”
“Damn, I thought I’d stopped that bad habit.”
“Bad habits are hard to break.”
“What’s your biggest, baddest habit?”
“My worst habit is correcting people. I’m pedantic.”
“That could get you killed.”
“I hope not. Are you going to kill me, Amy?”
Amy laughed. “I noticed you didn’t say, ‘Amy, you can’t kill me.’”
“I’m sure you have the skills,” Cid said dismissively. “But I’m on the side of truth…”
“Good, and the American way,” Amy finished. “Damn, I love nerds.”
It was Cid’s turn to laugh.
They had arrived to find Wayne and Cam supervising two techs as they carefully removed the excess dirt. A yard from the excavation stood a low moss-covered stone marker. Someone had peeled away a portion of the moss to reveal the carved letters “Stepner” and an arrow pointing east. Amy walked behind the marker and looked in that direction. Nature had taken over what would have been a gravel road at one time. “I would have never seen the road if not for the advance knowledge that it was here. I wonder how long it hasn’t been used.”
“You’d have to ask a local,” Wayne said. “I imagine once the highway that went through little roads like this fell out of the maintenance schedule and once the last of the people living out here passed, so did the road.”
“Wayne, this is Amy Dubo
is. She is part of the new security crew,” Cid introduced.
Wayne reached across the road marker and shook her hand. “Wayne Shipley. I expect you’ve met Cam?”
“Cam and I go a little way back,” Amy said.
The two techs nodded her way and resumed unearthing the remains.
“Hey, guys, what are you digging for today?” she asked. “Gold?”
“Not unless there’s some in the dental work of this guy,” one tech said, brushing the dirt away from the jaw of the exposed skeleton.
“Whoa, how long has he, she, been here?”
“Best guess?” Cam asked.
“I’ll take your guess over anyone else’s facts,” Amy said.
“Around fifty years. And he’s not alone,” Cam said, pointing to another skull.
“Mass murder?”
“Does two make a mass murder?” Wayne asked Cid.
“All I know of murder is that three crows make a murder of crows,” Cid said wryly.
“Why are they buried here?” Amy asked.
“We think they may have had something to do with the motel, but until we identify them, we don’t have much to substantiate my guess,” Cam said. “Ask me in a few hours.”
“Good old Cam,” Amy said. “Cid, this guy can tell you if the dead had ever chewed gum and what flavor it was.”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Cam said. “But I am that good.”
“What can you tell us right now?” Cid asked.
“They were bricklayers,” Cam said.
“How can you tell that? By their finger bones?” Amy asked.
“No, we found those in the grave with them.” Cam pointed to the bricks and trowel lying in plastic evidence bags beside the excavation.
Amy grinned. “Don’t blame me, my mother dropped me as a babe.”
“Right on that pointed head of yours,” Cam teased.
Amy took the ribbing in stride.
“Boss, I can give you the cause of death of this one,” the tech said holding up a skull. He turned it around to show the hole in the back. “I’m thinking .22, but it could have been a .38.”