by JE Gurley
“Enough for today,” he said. “We managed thirty feet. Not bad.”
No one cheered. At the rate they were going, they knew wouldn’t finish for a month and a half. That was a lot of work in the summer heat but no one wanted to work outside at night. Lights drew zombies. Mace had wanted everyone on the job, but the committee had vetoed him. Like Mace, Renda suspected they were living on borrowed time. Whether or not the others believed it, someone would find them eventually – zombies, gangs, Hunters, or the army. She hoped they would be ready.
Renda wiped her brow, stood a minute and watched the others filing back inside. The life seemed drained from them, not from the sun but from something else, a dark cloud hovering over them. Gone was the camaraderie and light-hearted chatter that had accompanied earlier work sessions. Derring glanced back at her and scowled. His fingers tightened on his rifle, but she knew he wouldn’t dare use it. He was all mouth. She smiled at him.
As much as she wanted out of the heat and into a cool shower, she did not want to go back inside with the others. She was becoming too much like Mace, a loner. It was at her insistence that they had rescued so many from San Diego. She was beginning to think it had not been a wise decision.
She shaded her eyes with her hand and stared at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in from the southeast, but that didn’t mean any relief from the heat. So far, monsoon season had been a bust, a few light drizzles and 110+ degree temperatures. Maybe rain and a few days of cooler temperatures would calm frayed nerves. She silently urged the rains to come. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Elliot Samuels’s long-legged lope across the compound toward the lab area and decided to intercept him. He stopped and smiled when he saw her approaching.
“Miss Kilmer,” he said.
“It’s Renda,” she reminded him, damning him for always being so polite. She wanted to see him angry sometime so he would look more human. To her, he looked like a GQ ad for shirts. He wasn’t even sweating.
“My apologies. How’s the little one?”
She smiled in spite of herself and rubbed her belly. “Healthy, according to Erin. And you?”
A momentary frown creased his lips. “As well as can be expected. Were you headed for the labs?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I saw you and decided to say hello.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow. “That was very kind of you.” He chuckled. “Now, what do you have on your mind really?”
A very perceptive man. “You’re used to dealing with people, right?”
He nodded. “Somewhat, yes.”
“Okay, what do you think of our little group?”
Samuels was hesitant to answer. He looked around as if hoping for something with which to change the subject, but found no relief. “There are dynamics,” he conceded.
“Dynamics? You mean politics, don’t you?”
Elliot cocked his head to one side and half-smiled. “Erin’s group and I are seen as potentially dangerous – useful but unwanted. You, Mace, Jeb and Vince are saviors, legends. The others respect you and look up to you, but resent that you’ve adjusted better than they have. They’re also afraid of you. You make them nervous. No one can live up to a legend.”
“Me?” she asked.
“All of you, but yes, there is a certain look in your eye and in your stance that frightens them. Like now, for instance.”
Renda realized that she was standing with her weight on the balls of her feet like a fighter and straightened to a more lady-like stance. “How long do you give us?”
“That’s a little out of my field of expertise.”
She pressed for an answer. “Guess.”
“To be blunt, trouble’s brewing. Janis Heath is an alley cat. She hates everyone and uses her body to control them. Bill Sikes is a bully. If he doesn’t kill someone, someone will kill him. Nick Harris – well, Harris is cool, calm and collected. He always smiles and is everyone’s friend, but I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“You sound like Mace.”
“Mace is a hard man, but you’re lucky to have him.”
Renda nodded. “What about Jeb Stone?”
Elliot dropped his smile. “He’s hurting. He’s a doctor who can’t cure his patient. His wife doesn’t want to live, and she wants to take Jeb with her. If he doesn’t watch out, she’ll succeed.”
“You’re a very observant man.”
“I think we both are, Miss... Renda,” he corrected himself. “Are you headed to the lab?”
Renda shook her head. She wasn’t as afraid of what the lab was working on as the others, but the idea of exposing her unborn child to them did not appeal to her. “No, I think I’ll shower.”
He nodded toward the pistol strapped to her belt and said more seriously, “Keep that handy.”
She smiled. “I always do.”
As Elliot continued toward the lab, Renda decided she might have judged him too harshly. He wasn’t cold – he was cautious. In today’s world, that wasn’t a bad thing to be. She had been a little afraid of Mace when she had first met him. His cold, calculating way of thinking and brusque manner mad him seem heartless, but without him, she would have not survived. On her way to the showers, Renda passed one of the outside storage buildings, noticing that the door was ajar. Muttering under her breath about people half-assing their job, she veered out of her way to shut the door. The buzzing of flies alerted her first that something was wrong. She took out her pistol and cautiously peeked inside. To her horror, a woman’s leg protruded from beneath a tarp. She glanced around quickly in case zombies were nearby, but saw no one. Carefully, she threw back the tarp. Expecting to find a half-eaten corpse, she instead discovered Janis Heath, eyes wide open, unseeing, with a bloody gash in her forehead. Heath was obviously dead, but Renda knelt beside the body and checked her pulse just to be certain. As she suspected, there was none. Heath’s wrist was still warm, meaning she had not been dead very long. The flies were attracted by the strong scent of blood, rather than the smell of decay.
Renda was more concerned than shocked – she had seen dead bodies before, more than she wanted to count. It came as no surprise to her that Janis Heath would end up badly. It would be difficult to winnow down the numerous suspects who wished her harm. It also meant a murderer was loose in their little community.
Shit! I guess I’m on the list, too, she thought wryly. As Renda rose from her knees, using the wall to support her growing weight, she spotted a white button lying beside Heath’s body. No buttons were missing from her blouse. A clue! Renda left things as she had found them, closed the door, and went in search of Mace.
* * * *
“Someone here is a murderer.” Ed Collier’s voice rose above the angry mummer of the crowd. The entire population of Biosphere 2, except for two guards, was present in the theater. The room was crowded and stifling. The air conditioner in the visitor center had been shut down to save power. It now blasted chilled air from the overhead vents, but it and had not had time to cool the room. “We must find and punish the guilty party.” His eyes sought out William Sikes. People’s heads turned to follow. Sikes saw what was happening and backed up against the wall.
“I didn’t do it!” he yelled.
“You’re a bully,” someone shouted.
Mikal Antonov, the Russian-born helicopter pilot who had ferried them all from San Diego raised his hand. Antonov’s age and perpetual calmness made him a commune favorite, well respected and well liked.
“Mr. Antonov,” Collier said, recognizing him.
“We must not rush headlong into things lest we make a grave error. Janis Heath was not well liked.” He looked around the room, challenging anyone to disagree. “Several here have as much motive as Mr. Sikes to wish her harm. Most of the women did not like her, felt threatened by her, shall we say ‘loose morals’?”
A few heads turned toward Renda. She ignored their stares. Mace stepped forward. He raised a hand and turned it slowly to reveal
a small, white button clasped between middle finger and thumb.
“Renda found this beside the body.” He walked toward Sikes, holding the button out like an offering. “I see a button is missing from your shirt, Sikes.”
Sikes grabbed his shirtfront and looked around frantically for support but saw only a sea of unfriendly faces. “It came off earlier today in the forest. I looked for it, but I... I couldn’t find it.”
“Did anyone see you lose it?” Collier asked.
Jeb spoke up. He did not like defending Sikes, but he could not allow a lynch mob mentality to take over. Once a crowd became a mob, they became uncontrollable and long suppressed conflicts reared their ugly little heads. “I saw him and Janis in the forest arguing. When he left, she was still alive.”
“He could have waited for her outside,” Collier suggested.
“I didn’t!” Sikes barked. “I didn’t see her again.”
“It’s his button,” someone shouted. “He can’t deny that.”
Several angry retorts followed.
Jeb shrugged. “It’s possible, but people usually kill for a reason. If Sikes wanted to kill her, why didn’t he kill her in the forest in the heat of anger? Sikes isn’t a planner.”
“More shrink bullshit!” a voice yelled.
Jeb stared at the speaker, a man he recognized as having anger issues of his own. “You slept with Heath and she dumped you, Les,” he said. “Where were you this morning?”
Les’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before replying, “The garden... I was in the garden.”
“Did you see Sikes?”
“Yeah, I saw him.”
“Did he leave early?”
Les looked around the room as eyes focused on him. Now, he was a suspect in their eyes. He lowered his head. “No. He left with the rest of us.” His head jerked up. “But I didn’t see him lose a button.”
Jeb nodded. “This was planned. Janis Heath had no reason to be in that building unless she went to meet someone. It must have been over a hundred degrees in there – not a great spot for a lover’s tryst. I don’t believe this was a crime of passion.”
“Then what?” Collier asked.
“I don’t know – yet,” Jeb admitted. “We need to investigate.” He looked at Sikes, still trembling in fear. Jeb still did not believe Sikes was guilty, but many of the others did. Some viewed it as an opportunity to pay him back for his bullying. “I’m sorry, Sikes, but we’ll have to keep you confined until we find out more.” Before Sikes could protest, Jeb added, “It’s for your protection.”
Surprisingly, Sikes lowered his head and nodded meekly.
Jeb pointed out two men. “Please take Sikes to desert habitat and watch him until we can find a more permanent place to confine him.”
The desert habitat, now additional living space, had only one entrance. They had no jail, and most small, enclosed spaces contained supplies. The commune had never considered the need for a jail. That, like many other things, might need to change. The two men flanked Sikes and marched him off toward the new dormitory.
“We need an investigation, but who?” Collier asked.
Jeb’s eyes strayed to Renda and passed on. Her animosity toward Heath was too well known. The crowd would think he was playing favorites. She looked relieved that he had not chosen her. “Mikal and I,” he suggested. No one would object to Antonov’s presence. After a moment he added, “Mace and Elliot Samuels.”
Samuels rose from his seat and cleared his throat. If he was uneasy among the very people who distrusted him, he did not allow it to show in his stance or in his face. “I suspect Jeb chose me because I’ve had so little contact with most of you and might be considered neutral.” He smiled briefly at Jeb. “However, I must decline. Work in the lab has reached a critical stage. I’m needed there.”
Collier pounded the table with his fist. “How can anything be more important than finding a murderer?”
Elliot started to answer, but Erin Costner touched his arm and stood. Her green eyes roved the room. She pushed her glassed back up the bridge of her nose with one finger. She appeared nervous. Jeb attributed her hesitation to a fear of speaking to crowds.
“Now is not the best time to announce this, but there have been problems with the anti-viral serum. We are working to correct….”
Harris interrupted her. “I hear the Blue Juice isn’t working,” he said in a casual tone.
The room exploded in a flurry of conversation as the crowd pressed closer around Erin. Janis Heath’s murder suddenly took a back burner as everyone focused on the immediate problem – the Blue Juice. For many, their lives depended on it, for others, their safety. Collier pounded on the table ineffectively trying to restore order. When people began shoving one another, Mace stepped in. He raised his pistol and fired it into the ceiling, bringing immediate silence to the room.
“Shut the hell up,” he snarled. “Let her speak.”
Erin continued, “Only a small percentage of our samples are ineffective.” Her gaze settled on Harris and his two friends and narrowed. Jeb thought that, like him, she was probably wondering how Nick Harris had found out about the Blue Juice problem. To Harris she said, “We were hoping that you might allow us a tube of your blood for a wider sampling base.”
Harris shot Jeb a withering look before smiling. “As Mr. Stone so aptly put it earlier, we’re just passing through. I’ll keep my blood, thank you. This is your problem, not mine.”
“We could really...” Erin began.
“Let’s just say I’m afraid of needles and leave it at that. I think I speak for my friends as well.” He stood. “Well, you folks have to catch a killer lurking among you. I think it’s time that we moved on.”
“Maybe you killed her,” Mace said. “You two had a thing going.”
Harris chuckled. “Janis always had a thing going. She couldn’t say no to anyone. That’s how she coped with her confinement. She was fun, but she wasn’t worth staying here. Besides, why would I kill her? She meant nothing to me. No, I think one of you did it.” He leveled his hand and swept it across the room. “It could have been any one of you.”
Jeb knew that Harris was right, but he couldn’t allow Harris to control the conversation. The crowd was already on the edge of becoming an angry mob.
“Until we discover our murderer, no one leaves.”
“You can’t keep us here,” Harris burst out. “Unless, of course, you intend to keep us prisoner.” He slowly scanned the faces in the crowd. “Are we all your prisoners? How do we know that you didn’t kill her, or your sick wife?”
Jeb silently damned Harris for bringing up Karen. Harris was deftly directing the suspicion away from himself and onto someone everyone knew was having mental problems. At the same time, he had managed to cast doubts on one of the people responsible for finding the killer.
“You don’t. That’s why I wanted Elliot and Antonov included in the investigation. We’ll try to make your stay here as enjoyable as possible, and since we now face the possibility that one of us might become a zombie, you and your friends will allow us to sample your blood.” Before Harris could object, Jeb looked around the crowd, took in the frightened, angry faces and added, “All of us must be re-tested for the virus.”
“I’m immune,” Harris replied.
“So you say, but we would like more assurance.”
“All right,” Harris said. “You win. We’ll hang around and let you bleed us dry if you want, but don’t expect me to sit by unarmed while you do your tests. If one of us turns zombie, I want to defend myself.”
Jeb noticed the tense undercurrent spreading through the room when Harris mentioned bleeding. He was certain that Harris had used the word deliberately to stir up the connotation of the FEMA camps.
“Your weapons will be returned to you.” Mace growled under his breath at this, but Jeb ignored him. “Everyone should go armed, but no one leaves. Mr. Collier will choose five people at a time in alphabetical order for testing. Eve
n those of you who are immune must comply.”
“Why?” someone asked. “We can’t catch the flu?”
“If the Blue Juice is breaking down, it might be because of a reaction from someone’s blood from whom the vaccine is derived. Erin and her people need more samples to test.”
“And if we refuse?” another asked defiantly.
In reply, Mace cocked his automatic, snapping a few heads in his direction. “Don’t,” he said tersely.
Jeb turned to Erin, who seemed dazed by the unexpected outbreak of hostility. “Is that okay with you?”
“Uh, certainly. We can start taking samples immediately.”
Jeb nodded. “Good. Harris, you and your friends can go first.” He noticed Renda’s smile, and wondered if Mace’s over the top action was the cause of her mirth, or because he had finally decided to rejoin the commune. “Everyone return to your duties. We should be safe for now. I don’t think we have a serial killer running around. Janis Heath was murdered for a reason. If any of you have any pertinent information, be sure to let Mikal, Elliot, Mace or I know.”
Inside, Jeb trembled with the revelations of the day – the murder of Janis Heath, the possibility of a failure of the Blue Juice, and a growing suspicion that Nick Harris was playing them all for fools. Jeb could feel Harris’s eyes following him around the room as he spoke briefly with a few people, quietly reassuring them. Harris was livid at Jeb’s turning the tables on him. As the crowd filed slowly from the room, Harris joined them. Curiously, Billy Idol remained seated, his head bowed, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor with a look of inner turmoil written across his face. Harris, noticing his young companion’s absence, went back and tapped him on the shoulder. Jeb recognized the look that crossed Billy Idol’s face when he glanced up at Harris – fear.
14
The Gray Man watched the UH 60 Black Hawk helicopter circle the Twin Buttes resort through his bedroom window, cursing silently at the passenger it carried. Major Corzine was paying the New Apostles a visit, and that could never be construed as good news. If Brother Malachi had not already informed the Major of his presence, The Gray Man would have slinked off into the desert, on foot if necessary. Now, it was too late.