The Poisonous Ten

by Tyler Compton

  “No, wait,” Hunter said. The young officer turned his head around to face the air duct above everyone’s head. “What is that?”

  Ramirez sniffed the air when suddenly his eyes began to water and he coughed deeply. Though chained to the chair, Wesley tried to stand, looking around wildly at the air above him. Then his brother began coughing.

  “Shit,” Hunter said.

  “Something’s coming in through the air duct,” Ramirez said. “We gotta get out of here. Get their handcuffs.”

  Ramirez went for the door only to find it wouldn’t open. He banged against it, yelling as loud as he could, not realizing he went unheard thanks to the one-and-a-half-inch-thick metal door and wailing fire alarm. He continued to pound away at the door when Moore showed up, looking confused as she jiggled the handle.

  “What’s wrong?” Moore shouted at the window in the door.

  “Locked,” Ramirez mouthed inaudibly, also motioning toward the air vents to try and signal what was happening within the room.

  Moore tried the handle while Ramirez continued pounding against the door, his eyes tearing up as his lips swelled and his nose began to run.

  “Hold on,” Moore said. “We’ll get you out of there. How’s everyone doing?”

  Ramirez turned around to see for himself and to allow her a view, something she wished she could take back. Officer Hunter was doing the same as Ramirez, his eyes turning pink and tearing up while the rest of his face swelled up and became flushed. The two convicts, still handcuffed to their chairs, screamed in pain as the poison being released into the air affected them more. Their mouths bled as they coughed up blood, while their noses became leaky faucets that couldn’t be stopped. Their faces were red and swollen, as if their entire bodies were on fire. The handcuffs around their wrists dug into their skin as they jerked against them. The undersides of Wesley Cosway’s wrists bled freely, and he began to cut through the skin with his teeth in an attempt to free himself from his restraints.

  “Dammit,” Moore cursed as she retrieved her cell and dialed Parks.

  “What is it?” Parks shouted over the sirens wailing throughout the hospital.

  “The attack. It’s going on. Now. Ramirez and the other officer are trapped in the room with the Cosways. The door is locked, and we can’t open it. And the room is filling up with some sort of gas. Not sure what, but everyone’s reacting badly to it.”

  “I’m coming right down,” Parks shouted back. “Call Jackie. Get her up there with the doctor right away.”

  “Okay,” Moore replied. She hung up and dialed Jackie’s number while looking back into the room. Inside the locked room, Evan Cosway choked on some of his blood as he screamed in pain while also gnawing away at his wrists, trying to free himself. He stopped and jerked his hands back violently from the handcuffs, trying to apply enough force to break them. Ramirez heard a snap and looked over at Evan as he freed his right hand from the still unbroken cuffs.

  “Dammit, Cosway, stop it,” Ramirez choked.

  Evan Cosway ignored Ramirez’s orders and with his free hand immediately went about wildly scratching at his neck, his fingernails digging deep to get at the root of his pain. He let out a sigh of relief when he broke through the skin on the back of his neck, drawing blood as he continued to scratch.

  Moore looked on in horror, realizing there was nothing she could do to stop what was happening, when Jackie broke her concentration.

  “What’s up?” Jackie asked through the phone line.

  “Get up here with the doctor, right away. Something’s happening. The room with the Cosway brothers is filling up with some sort of gas, and Ramirez is trapped in there with another officer. We can’t open the door.”

  “On my way,” Jackie said and hung up.

  “Get this door open,” Ramirez shouted, still not realizing he was going unheard.

  Moore ran off to find something to help pry the door open, running back a few seconds later with a fire extinguisher in her hands. She motioned for Ramirez to back up then began to bang the extinguisher against the glass window in the door. She was able to crack it but not break it enough to allow for fresh air. She then began to slam the extinguisher against the handle in the doorway. Moore peered in through the shattered glass and saw that everyone looked worse than before, the two brothers now bleeding through their eyes and ears as well as their noses, mouths, and ears. As she looked to Ramirez, she saw his nose began to bleed.

  “Hold on,” Moore shouted when she started banging against the door handle again. “Almost there.”

  “Rachel!” shouted Fairmont from down the hallway as he and Parks swung through the door at the stairwell and ran toward her. “Stop!”

  Over the commotion of nurses and patients evacuating the hospital, and the fire alarm that had yet to stop, there was no way for Moore or anyone else at the other end of the floor to hear Fairmount’s shouts.

  “I got it,” Moore gasped as she slammed against the door once more and broke through the lock.

  The door swung open at the same time the extinguisher slipped from Moore’s hands. Both the door hitting the metal wall and the extinguisher hitting the floor caused not one but two sparks, and immediately the room erupted in a ball of flames. The fireball was big and quick, consuming the entire inside of the room. The two brothers shouted in pain while their bodies burned up, both of them still handcuffed to their chairs, Evan Cosway’s one free hand waving wildly, neither one able to run away or do anything about the flames.

  Detective Ramirez and Officer Hunter had also both been engulfed in the flames and flailed about as they tried to get out of the room. Hunter ran into a wall, slipped on the floor, and banged his head against the corner of the counter as he fell. Ramirez made it out of the room, but had no clear direction to go as he couldn’t see with his face on fire, and he fell over a nearby couch, crashing through a glass coffee table. He writhed about on the floor, his body still in flames, his neck sliced open by the glass shards, his life rapidly bleeding out. As his blood soaked into the hospital carpet, it began to cook from the flames, emitting a foul smell into the air. Parks and Officer Conrad ran to his aid and began patting the fire out.

  The ball of fire that had swept through the room quickly dispersed, but not before sending a wall of fire out the door and engulfing part of Moore. Fairmont tackled her and beat at her sides as he tried to put out the fire consuming her clothes. A few seconds later, Jackie was at his side with a blanket to help smother the flames.

  “Doctor!” Parks shouted to no one in particular. “I need a doctor.”

  Dr. Lynch was at Parks’s side, checking on Ramirez and shouting at several of the fleeing nurses, all of whom ignored him. Parks backed away from the doctor to allow him room to conduct his business on the detective. He turned toward the room Ramirez had escaped from, everything inside black from the fire. Parks walked past Fairmont, who cradled Moore in his arms as tears made clean tracks down her soot-covered face. Parks approached the doorway to the room and saw the two Cosway brothers, both dead, looks of horror forever burnt into their faces, while their charred bodies remained chained to their chairs. In the corner of the room the young officer lay face down, his body burned almost beyond recognition. The smell of burnt flesh filled the hallways of the sixth floor, making everyone left breathing ready to gag as their eyes watered.

  This was an absolute nightmare. In all his years on the force, he couldn’t recall a more horrifying sight.

  They had tried. He wasn’t sure what went wrong, but they had still lost. And just like Tippin had warned, there were casualties. The people who had tried to stop the Palisades Poisoner had paid a price. And as Parks looked over his beaten team, he wondered who else would pay with their life as they tried to stop this madman from killing again.

  31

  “So?” Jackie stared across the table at Parks as he hung up the phone. The lights from the neighboring downtown buildings were lighting up the sky with the sun disappearing behind the horiz
on. Parks, Jackie and Tippin were sitting around a conference table in the center of the squad floor, each covered in soot, their clothes smelling of sweat and ash, each waiting to finish with their interviews with their superiors about the day’s events. The smell of burning flesh was still imprinted on Parks’s brain and the taste of blood on his tongue.

  “That was Amy,” Parks said to no one in particular. “Evan and Wesley Cosway are dead. Fourth-degree burns on the majority of their bodies. But we knew that.”

  “We don’t give a shit about them,” Jackie said. She blushed when Tippin turned to her. “Sorry. Sorry I said that. They were still people.”

  “No, you’re right,” Parks agreed. “Cal Ramirez died an hour ago. He had second- and third-degree burns but he actually died from blood loss. The . . .” Parks was gesturing to his throat and the injury that Ramirez had sustained from his fall on the table. “You know he’s got two ex-wives and four children. His son is in the academy right now. He graduates in the winter. I can’t . . .”

  “What about Rachel?” Jackie asked.

  “Oh, she’s a fighter, I’ll tell you that,” Parks said, smiling. “She’s one of the toughest women I’ve ever known. She’s got some first- and second-degree burns as well. But she’ll be fine. Still at the hospital. They’ll keep her overnight, maybe even two. Then she’ll go home. Take a few weeks off. Then she’ll be back to us good as new.”

  “Where’s Detective Fairmont?” Tippin asked innocently.

  “I had him stay at the hospital to keep me updated on everyone there.”

  “What about Wilkes and Hayward?”

  “They’re all right as well. Just a little banged up. Hayward said someone jumped him in the stairwell and when Wilkes went to check on him someone got him as well. They’ll take some stitches and bandages but they’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Or today,” Jackie said.

  Parks turned to her and she nodded toward Hardwick’s office where Wilkes had just disappeared into. Wilkes’s heightened voice could immediately be heard from behind the closed door.

  “Well this can’t be good,” Jackie said, shaking her head.

  “What do you suppose that’s all about?” Tippin asked, lowering his head to the desk. Everyone was tired and just wanted to wash the day’s events away. Go home, have a strong drink, and sleep the nightmare away.

  “I’m not sure,” Parks said, still eyeing the office.

  “Oh, you know what it’s about,” Jackie said. “Get ready for some blame to come your way. The great Detective Wilkes—not to mention his men—were injured on the job today. On your case.” Jackie eyed Parks, giving him pity he was too tired to accept.

  “You don’t know—Oh, here we go,” Parks said, standing up. Chief Hardwick was motioning for him to come to her office. “How do I look?” Parks winked.

  “Like a million bucks. Although it’s kinda obvious you didn’t spend it on that suit. Or cleaning supplies.” Jackie winked. “Good luck.”

  “All right . . .” Parks said, walking into Hardwick’s office. “I know this looks bad, but this can be seen as a good thing.”

  “How’s that?” Wilkes shot back. “What about all the dead bodies we accumulated today? How do you figure that’s a good thing?”

  Parks tried to keep his cool in check as he avoided locking eyes with the other detective. Wilkes had a right to vent after what had happened that day. Wilkes was bandaged from the blow to his head and taking whatever drugs had been prescribed for him. Both men’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Parks’s lungs were still cleaning themselves out, and he’d been coughing since leaving the hospital. Parks felt like he had been given an injection of adrenaline as he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

  “Look, we all suffered a great loss today. I know that. But we need to focus on the positive right now.”

  “Positive?” Wilkes snapped, jumping out of his chair, knocking it back against the wall.

  “Wilkes,” Hardwick said, staying put behind her desk.

  “What the fuck is positive about anything that happened today? Ramirez is dead. Along with another officer I didn’t even know. Hell, even Hayward and myself didn’t get out of that unscathed.”

  “And we still have an active case to wrap up,” Parks said, not backing down. “A very serious case that could put a lot more lives in jeopardy if we don’t stop this guy. We’ve never been this close to this guy before. Hell, we were there before the attack. We’re catching up to this guy. We’re putting all of the pieces together. We’re going to get him. Now are you going to help with that? Or not?”

  “What? Are you saying I haven’t been?” Wilkes asked. “Well, fuck you.”

  “Of course not—”

  “Fuck you!”

  “No one’s saying that,” Hardwick interrupted. “No one’s saying anyone associated with this case hasn’t put in a hundred and ten percent. But the truth of the matter is this guy’s still out there. And yes, we suffered a loss today. A big, fucking loss. So the question is, what are we going to do about it? As it is, I have the press hounding me, as well as the mayor and the commissioner. What happened today isn’t likely to be forgotten any time soon. Luckily, most everyone was evacuated out of the hospital before the attack, so there aren’t many eyewitnesses to deal with. It’s being reported as a bomb scare, and for now we’re getting away with that. It’s believed we can keep this under wraps for the most part.”

  “What about the Cosway brothers?” Parks asked.

  “That’s not your problem to concern yourself with,” Hardwick said. “Honestly, I don’t know yet. We’re still dealing with that. Who knows what they’re going to say about them.”

  “Fuck that,” Wilkes said, pacing the room, building up tension like a tea kettle waiting to explode.

  “It was a very public attack,” Parks said. “The chances of this guy doing what he did and not being seen by anyone, someone, somewhere, a security camera, something, is unlikely. I had our guys pull forensics off you and Hayward and anyone else who was attacked to try and figure out what you were attacked with.”

  “I’ll tell you what I was attacked with,” Wilkes said, still pacing. “A psychopath you can’t seem to stop.”

  “Now listen here,” Parks replied, standing up and getting in Wilkes’s face. “This wasn’t my fault. Shit happened. No one’s blaming anyone.”

  “Well, I’m blaming you,” Wilkes shot back.

  “Wilkes,” Hardwick said sternly from her desk. “Cool it and sit down.”

  “You know what? I am blaming you,” Wilkes continued as he poked his finger into Parks’s chest. “This is all your fault. I lost damn near my entire team today. And that is your fault. You are in charge. This is your investigation.”

  “Get the hell out of my face, Wilkes,” Parks said, swatting Wilkes’s finger out of his face.

  The gesture immediately ignited Wilkes, who shoved Parks back against the wall with his whole body and then pinned him up against the wall.

  “Wilkes,” Hardwick shouted. “Knock this off. I will not tolerate this.”

  “I lost them all today because of you. If you had just spent some more time planning instead of listening to that little faggot spout conspiracy theories,” Wilkes spat into Parks’s face as he held him up against the wall.

  “We didn’t have time! And watch—”

  “Fuck that!” Wilkes’s face was red and his pulse raced, the veins in his neck and forehead throbbing. Several officers ran into the room and pried Wilkes off Parks, which only infuriated Wilkes more, forcing the officers to hold him back as he kept trying to get back at Parks.

  “Fuck you!” Wilkes continued. “This is your fucking fault!”

  “Wilkes!” Hardwick shouted. “Get the hell out of my office. Get out of here. Go home. You’re suspended. Now!”

  Parks massaged his neck while the other officers pulled Wilkes out of the office. He continued to scream and struggle to get at Parks the whole time. Jackie and Tippin were sta
nding at the conference table, concern and fear on their faces, as they watched Wilkes be dragged away.

  “Fucking hell,” Hardwick cursed, throwing her pen down on her desk and having it bounce up and almost hit Parks. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. And it’s not his either. It is my fault. He’s just short-tempered. Always has been. It’s just who he is.”

  “That’s no excuse. He’ll be suspended, and that’s all I need is for another detective to be out of service right now. He’s right. We already lost one good man today. Fuck.”

  “I won’t press the matter,” Parks said, trying to control his shaking hands.

  “Doesn’t matter. He has a short temper and it needs to be dealt with. And it all happened in front of me. And other witnesses. What am I supposed to do? Pretend it never happened?”

  “I’ll go along with whatever you decide.” Parks breathed deeply. “Our department is thinned out enough as it is. We need more people. I understand the difficulty of suspending him. Maybe restricted duty for a few weeks.”

  “It’s my decision either way,” Hardwick said, ending the subject. “Where’s your report on today’s events?”

  “Not finished yet.”

  “Then that’s your priority right now,” Hardwick said matter-of-factly. “It’s Saturday. Finish your reports. Then you and your whole team go home for the night.”

  Parks nodded.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and this asshole will poison himself planning for his next attack,” Hardwick muttered to herself.

  Parks realized he had no proper reply for his boss’s comment as he left her office.

  32

  “You’re never going to believe what we found,” Fairmont said with a smile across his face.

  “What’s that?” Parks asked, not sure he would believe much of anything right now. It had been a little less than forty-eight hours since the catastrophe at the hospital, and while everyone was physically better, no one’s moods seemed to have been repaired quite so quickly.

  “The connection between Allison Tisdale and Ian Harris,” Fairmont replied.