The Wild Dead

by Carrie Vaughn

  “Maybe he is,” Jess said. “He’s a strange one.”

  “They all are.” Juni frowned. “Go talk to them, you’ll see.”

  Enid leaned back. “Are you saying this because of the investigation from twenty years ago?”

  The woman from the old household, Juni’s former household, who’d cut out her implant had moved to Last House after the investigation. A sort of exile.

  “I don’t like to talk about that,” Juni said. “I wish Erik hadn’t brought it up.”

  “Just go talk to them,” Jess said quietly. “If anyone knows anything, they do.”

  “We will, thanks.” Enid looked over; the others from the household had stayed quiet, but still watched, wide-eyed. They were part of a relatively new household, built on the ruins of an earlier one—they might very well be worried. She asked, “Any of you feel like running messages to Everlast?” Everlast was the first town on this section of road that had a committee and the means to pass along messages to regional.

  The mood lifted. Giving people concrete jobs to replace vague worries usually did that.

  “Tom can run messages,” Jess said. “How’s that sound? Tom?”

  Tom, the youngest of the household at fourteen, perked up, stood at attention. “Yeah, I think so. Late enough I might have to stay the night, but yeah, I can. That okay?” He asked this of Jess.

  “Sure, you’ve done it before.”

  Enid said, “We just need to let the local committee know this is going to take longer than we expected.”

  “I can do it,” he said, sounding so sure of himself. Like she was sending him on a quest to the other end of the Coast Road.

  “Good,” Enid said, and he beamed.

  The boy added, “Never hurts to earn some favors. Especially from investigators?”

  “Sharp kid,” Enid said, smiling. “Give us a couple of minutes to get our notes together.” Enid and Teeg wrote out a couple of messages, telling about the body, its description in case anyone could identify it, and what they planned on doing. Enid tried to sound positive. They’d follow this investigation as far as they could. Even if it turned out to be not very.

  Once Tom had the pages, he put on a hat and grabbed a skin of water and set off at a trot. Kid like that could probably keep up that pace for hours.

  And that was another thing on the list done.

  “I’m not hopeful,” Teeg told Enid, out of earshot of the household.

  “Teeg, you’re a brand-new investigator. You don’t even know what’s possible yet. Give it a couple of days. We’ll turn something up.”

  Teeg scowled, and she was determined to smile at him. Wasn’t she supposed to be the cynical one?

  Chapter Five • the estuary

  ///////////////////////////////////////

  Judgment

  They’d shifted from investigating one structure at one household to investigating the whole community. This was like expecting a drizzle and getting a typhoon. Enid wasn’t ready for it, but if she didn’t keep herself steady and moving forward, no one else would. If she let Teeg decide what to do, they’d already be footing it home.

  Eight more households stood spaced along the ridge above the river. Bonavista was the only one on this side. After it lay the bridge over the shallow, sluggish San Joe River. Ahead, the next household came into view before they’d entirely left Bonavista behind. The whole settlement was probably arranged that way on purpose—close enough for each household to see the next, far enough apart so they couldn’t actually hear their neighbors shout. Close enough to be of help in an emergency, far enough away to avoid idle visiting. It wasn’t that they didn’t like one another here. They just didn’t necessarily want to live in one another’s laps.

  Enid came from a large household in a bustling town—Haven, the oldest along the Coast Road, the core of what came after. If she tried, she could understand the isolation here. The quiet, the feeling that all you saw was yours. But she didn’t like it herself, and she didn’t want to be here.

  Next up the road was Pine Grove, which had no evidence of pine trees anywhere near it. Unlike Semperfi’s precarious house, these cottages were all well back from the riverbank, away from potential mudslides. Farther up the hill, their pylons were only a foot or so tall. Avery and Lynn were the heads of Pine Grove, which was a couple of generations along, with members who’d joined up, along with the handful of banners of those born here. Had a couple of kids, healthy and cared for. The usual collection of chickens, goats, and pigs, and a big barn cat that bared its teeth at the investigators as if it didn’t trust them.

  Avery and Lynn had been watching for Enid and Teeg, probably since the body had been carried out of the marsh, and came out to the road to intercept them.

  “What’s happening? What else have you found? Do you know who she is?” Avery asked, before a greeting even. The whole community had been tipped off balance. Even the air felt heavier, weighed down by the gravity of that body lying shrouded.

  Teeg looked to Enid for some hint of how to proceed. One step at a time . . .

  “We’re just getting started,” Enid said. “Can you answer some questions for us?”

  Avery pursed his lips, while Lynn, who was thin and dark-skinned, with black hair cropped short, plucked at the fabric of her trousers. Enid took that as a yes.

  “You got a look at the body when we brought it up. Did you recognize her? Any idea who she is?”

  “No,” Avery said quickly. “No idea at all.”

  Lynn shook her head. “I didn’t see her. But if Avery didn’t know her, it’s not likely I would.”

  “Any idea where she’s from?” Avery said.

  Enid said, “We think she’s from outside. Not Coast Road.”

  Avery took a step back at this. Lynn’s look hardened.

  “They come down this way sometimes,” she admitted. “We see them on the shoreline, picking up trash.”

  Harvesting shellfish more likely, Enid guessed.

  “Never so close as to talk to us,” Avery added. “And now they’re here, killing each other?”

  “We don’t know who killed her,” Enid said evenly. “Not yet.”

  “If anyone can find out, Enid can,” Teeg said, with bravado that came off hollow. She braced for what came next, and he predictably followed up. “Enid’s investigated a murder before.” The couple regarded her skeptically, and she suppressed a scowl.

  “Do we need to worry?” Lynn asked. “If wild folk are coming around here, killing each other—do we need to worry?”

  And that was another thing to worry about. Enid didn’t expect more violence—this death seemed spontaneous, unplanned, not likely to be repeated. But she hadn’t expected people to worry that it might.

  “I don’t think so,” she answered, trying to sound reassuring. “But that’s why we’re looking into it.”

  Lynn didn’t seem comforted, and Avery put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll keep a watch out. You can handle it, if we find anyone nosing around?”

  Enid sighed. “Yes, we’ll handle it.”

  Avery nodded, satisfied, but Lynn still didn’t look convinced.

  “We’re staying down at Bonavista if anyone needs to find us.” Enid turned to go, with Teeg at her shoulder, when Avery called out.

  “Wait—”

  They turned back.

  “Can I ask . . . well . . .”

  “Yeah?” Enid prompted.

  “We were just wondering when you might let everyone know what you’ve decided about that wreck at Semperfi?”

  “You know—I had completely forgotten about that,” Enid lied. “I’ll have to get back to you.” She walked on before the couple could say anything else.

  Teeg hesitated before following, and she was afraid he was going to say something to the pair. What, she didn’t quite know. She wanted to yell at them about priorities, which was why she walked off. But Teeg waited until they were out of earshot before talking.

  “We haven’t
had a chance to talk about Semperfi, have we? They’re the next house on the path. What’re we going to tell them? They’re going to ask.”

  She didn’t care about the house, the original investigation. If the town had had a formal committee, an investigation never would have been called. It was a nothing problem that would take care of itself in the next storm. Common sense should have solved this weeks ago. She probably shouldn’t feel so dismissive, but couldn’t really help it. That young woman’s face, the gaping wound in her neck and chest, occupied her.

  “I have to be honest, I’m not really concerned about the house,” she said. “The house will still be there after we’ve done all we can about that young woman.” But not for long, likely . . .

  “We were sent about the house, not the body.”

  Enid stopped, turned to face him. “All right, let’s talk about the house. What do you think should be done?”

  Teeg drew back, mouth open, ready for more arguing. But Enid—hot, sweaty, bitten up by bugs—wasn’t in the mood.

  Her partner straightened and marshaled his thoughts. “Erik has to know we’re not likely to decide this in his favor.”

  “Of course he does,” she sighed. “But he needed to hear it from someone official. Needed a villain to blame, rather than the folk he has to live with every day. So here we are. That’s why he called for investigators. Not because he thought he had a chance of saving it.”

  Teeg’s brow creased as he turned over some thought. “Is that our job, then? To be the villain?”

  “Sometimes it is.” Enid started walking again. They had half a dozen more households to talk to and the sun was sinking.

  Teeg kept on. “Did you know it was going to be like that before we saw the house?”

  “No. But after I saw it, after he couldn’t make a good argument for saving it—we hardly needed to discuss it, did we?”

  “Are all your cases like this? Are they all this straightforward?”

  “No case is like any other, in my experience. Please remember that.”

  Semperfi came into view. The horrible wreck of a house was hidden at first—they’d have to take a turn toward the river to reach it. The rest of the holding was entirely normal. Respectable. The paths between cottages were neatly laid out and lined with stones. A row of raised garden beds produced a tangle of herbs and vegetables. A small wind turbine worked, the cisterns seemed well maintained. The place was almost pretty. They didn’t need the antique house. Its value was sentimental. Which wasn’t to say that sentiment never had value. But not at such an expense.

  Erik, Anna, and a couple of other of their folk were working outside and saw the investigators as soon as they came up the path. Erik strode forward to meet them.

  “You found out anything? How that girl got there?”

  At least he asked about that first, instead of the house. It improved Enid’s mood slightly. “We’re still talking to people,” she said. “You said you’d never seen her?”

  “No, I didn’t recognize her at all. And I go to the market at Everlast once a month or so.”

  “We don’t think she’s from the Coast Road.”

  His expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “I told you they’d been coming down here, I knew it. You think she was the one sneaking into the house? It was probably her.” There was anger in his voice.

  Enid tried to steady him. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. You said you’ve seen outsider folk around. How often? Would you recognize any if you saw them again?” Maybe the blanket and pouch they’d found belonged to her, which was why they hadn’t found anything with the body? It was a possibility.

  His mouth worked a moment before he admitted it: “Not often. Every few months. Mostly they go to the coast to scavenge. But if they decided they’d get better pickings from here—”

  Enid tilted her head. “If you’re sure that girl was here stealing from the households, then it stands to reason someone here at the Estuary was the one who killed her. You know who might do something like that?” She prodded him intentionally, to get a reaction.

  “No, nobody here ever would. At least . . . I don’t think . . .”

  “What?” Teeg demanded. Enid had to put a hand on his arm to hold him back. Pouncing on the guy would only scare him.

  “Last House. Talk to Last House. They’ve been trading with the wild folk. They see them all the time. You want to know what’s going on, talk to them. I bet they know.”

  This was interesting. Lots of fingers pointing at Last House. Didn’t necessarily mean anything. Or it meant that no one liked Last House.

  Enid asked, “Kellan, the man who found the body—has he been back through here since he went up the hill?”

  “No, he hasn’t been back.”

  “All right, thanks. Mind if we talk to your other folk, in case they’ve seen anything odd?”

  He didn’t mind—couldn’t, really. He stood by as Enid and Teeg asked questions, just as they had at the first two households. Even their child, a nine-year-old named Peety, though his parents bristled at it. Enid was careful, sending Teeg with his staff to stand farther off, kneeling down to Peety’s level, and asking gently, “Have you seen anything strange? Have you seen anyone around you didn’t recognize?” The boy was wary of her and the uniform, even though he’d likely never seen one before. He’d heard the stories.

  She and Teeg finished and set off toward the path again when Erik came up to intercept them, frowning. His face was flushed; he’d calmed down, but some anger lingered. Enid suspected she knew what he wanted, and was feeling contrary enough to make him ask for it.

  “Yes?” she prompted.

  “I have to know . . . I mean, you have to have decided. I know you’ve got other things going on, but you can’t leave us hanging. About the house. Do we get to keep it?” He was trying to sound strong, brave. But he couldn’t meet their gaze. He kept his eyes on their uniforms.

  Enid sighed, annoyed. Time to finish it, then.

  “I’m sorry, Erik. You’ve got to let the place go. You can’t ask the others to put time and resources into a thing that isn’t doing anyone any good. More, it’s a hazard. We don’t want anyone to get hurt trying to save it.”

  Erik listened without reaction, then nodded like he understood. Like he had expected this. He looked away, hiding reddening eyes, and wiped a hand across his nose. He must have known what she was going to say, must have known the whole time. Back toward the main cottage, Anna saw them talking, must have guessed, from Erik’s reaction, what about. She came up to him, held his hand, which he squeezed back.

  “They’re killing the house, Anna,” he said quietly.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured.

  “Yeah. Okay, okay. I understand.”

  Enid’s shoulders unknotted, and Teeg relaxed the grip on his staff. Enid hoped someday Erik would come to be relieved that he didn’t have the maintenance of that wreck hanging over him anymore. She wasn’t going to suggest that to him now, however.

  “I thought you would,” she said. “Thanks for your cooperation; it’s been helpful.”

  “Yeah. Just . . . just one question. This won’t hurt our chances for another banner, will it?”

  Erik and his household were worried that this—their illogical attachment to a thing that had so little value—proved that they couldn’t care for a child. Maybe they were right to worry.

  Softer, Erik said, “We just want to know if you’re going to impose any other restrictions. You know, for bringing all this up in the first place.”

  By some arguments, calling for an investigation in a situation like this was itself a waste of resources that ought to be punished. Enid didn’t agree with that line of thinking. If people thought that, they’d let arguments stew until they boiled over and people got hurt.

  She shook her head. “No. Losing the house is enough, don’t you think? As soon as Teeg and I walk out of here, I consider the matter closed.”

  Erik laughed stiffly. “T
hat’s investigators. Coming in, tipping everything over, then walking away.”

  Enid brightened. “Yeah, that is our job, isn’t it?”

  Clinging to Anna’s hand, Erik looked up the hill, to the ruin behind him. “I guess . . . we should make a plan to start salvaging what we can. Maybe not right away, though.”

  “You’ve got time, I imagine,” Enid said. “But you might want to get any salvage out of there before the next storm.”

  “Right,” Erik murmured. Enid hoped her smile was comforting, but it felt grim.

  There was always another storm, and there never seemed to be enough time between them.

  Chapter Six • the estuary

  ///////////////////////////////////////

  Last House

  They continued their trek up the hill, and once again, Teeg waited until they were out of earshot. “He took it better than I expected,” he said.

  “I told you—I think he knew it was coming.” They went a few more steps, and Enid enjoyed the sound of her boots crunching on dry ground, away from the marsh and mud. “They don’t always take it so well.”

  The next visits went much like the first few. No one who’d seen the body recognized it. Several who hadn’t already seen it agreed to go to Bonavista and look, just in case. Enid trusted that they really did want to help, and wouldn’t go simply to gawk. No one had noticed anything strange, hadn’t seen anyone from outside the settlement wandering around. This was a case with no threads to follow. Enid was afraid they’d have to hold a pyre for the body and walk away with all the questions left unanswered.

  At one household, a very old woman sat on a porch under a veil of mosquito net, braiding hemp rope. Even with her stiff, arthritic hands, the movements, over and under, showed evidence of long practice. Enid asked her if she was old enough to remember anything from before the Fall—she looked like she might be—but no, she’d been born right around that time. The woman remembered her parents’ stories, but that was all. It had been years now since Enid had met anyone with their own memories of that time. The last was Auntie Kath from back in Haven, who’d died over a dozen years ago now. No, longer than that. Almost eighteen years ago. That last bridge to the old days, to before. Enid likely would never meet another, and the fact felt like loss.