by Dan DeWitt
Her eyes settled on the black address book. She almost hoped to find it crammed with ladies' names with stars next to them. Her mind took that ball and ran with it. Next thing she knew, she couldn't get the image of the good doctor dressed up like Fonzie out of her head. She started giggling.
I'm losing it here.
She heard footsteps behind her and swiveled in her chair. "Oh, look. Someone else is losing her mind, too. I thought it was just me."
"JJ! Thank God you're here, I can't stop laughing." She broke out in another giggling fit.
Jen began to laugh along. "At what?"
In between giggles, she explained.
A few seconds later, they were both laughing uncontrollably, feeding off of each other. The stress and the lack of sleep made it a whole lot funnier than it should've been.
"Oh, God, I can't breathe," Jen managed to croak out.
"I know, it's so stupid ...” She managed to finally get control of herself. "Oh ... that was fun. I haven't laughed like that since the day before we came back here."
"Same here. This is where humor comes to die." Jen finally got a chance to look at what her friend was doing. "So, what are you in for?"
Lena waved her hand. "All of this shit is from Dr. Vincent's place. Cam found it, and this is the booty they came back with. I'm looking for anything. You?"
Jen pulled the printouts from a folder. "This was in a Zero. Cam," Jen debated on how much gruesome detail to include, and settled on none, "Cam recovered it."
Lena leaned forward? "Really?"
"Yeah. And I have reason to believe that another one was in Falcone, too."
"He was a Zero, too."
"Yeah."
"Whoa."
"I need to study the shit out of this thing and learn everything I can before I start messing around with it. I only have one, and I probably won't ever get another."
Lena just stared at the photo.
"You okay?" Jen asked.
"I'm sorry, can we back up a sec? This is proof that the outbreaks were intentional?"
Jen made a flourish with her hands. "Well, I'm a researcher, so I wouldn't say it's definitive. I need more evidence." She paused. "However, I just mentally punched out, and Off the Clock Jen says that shit, yes, it is."
"My God. I was always curious, but I guess I held out hope that there was another explanation. It's just evil."
"Tell me about it. I worked for him. Meanwhile, you got to work with the Justice League."
"Hey," Lena said as she got up and walked to a cabinet. "You're on the side of the angels now, girlie." She moved aside a few boxes of crackers and pulled out a bottle of wine.
"You have a stash?"
Lena held out her arm as if to shake hands across the room. "Hi, I'm Lena. Nice to meet you."
That elicited another laugh from Jen. "My mistake."
Lena put two glasses down on the desk and filled them past the point of moderation. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're going to switch. You take a look at my stuff, I'll see what I can get from those photos. I'm sure that I know some supernerds who owe me a favor."
"That," Jen said as she accepted the glass and raised it to her host, "sounds like a plan. Gimme."
Lena grabbed one of her new CDs and popped it into her computer. She set it to random and they went to work.
They worked without speaking for ten minutes, happy to be involved in something different.
Jen flipped through the first half of the address book. "I can't see anything odd about this. Names, phone numbers. The one thing that bugs me is that he doesn't care for alphabetization."
"Hold on a sec. I'm emailing a guy. Did you know that this thing has serial number or something?"
"What? How did I miss that?"
"My guess is because you were concerned with looking at it as a whole, trying to figure out how it works.” I blew it up as far as it would reasonably go and looked it over piece by piece. I asked my friend about the antennas ... antennae? Antennas. These things."
"You're right, that's exactly what I was doing. I'm glad we switched. Now if I could just find something here, pull my weight."
"It's an address book, not the Necronomicon. I'm just avoiding the computer as long as possible."
They went back to work for another thirty seconds or so before Jen asked, "Are you hungry? Let's go eat."
O
Jen and Lena entered the cafeteria. They'd missed dinner, but the cafeteria had a selection of sandwiches, dry cereals, and assorted fruit 24/7. At that moment, the women were very grateful for it. Jen treated herself to a chicken salad sandwich on wheat bread, and Lena grabbed a single serving cup of Frosted Flakes. There were only a handful of others in the cafeteria, and they recognized two of them.
They sat down next to Thompson and Hedley without being invited, not that one would have been necessary. "Slide, Clyde," Lena said to Thompson. He obliged her and Hedley did the same for Jen.
After the girls were settled in, Thompson said, "Double date, dude. Don't embarrass me."
"You wish. You're lucky I even talk to you, you media vulture." In truth, Lena liked Thompson when he broke character, which wasn't often. Most of the time, he was maddeningly cocky. She assumed that it was a product of his job. Meek reporters wouldn't survive. When he let his guard down, he was actually kind of normal.
"To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Work," Jen said.
"The stuff we brought back from Vincent's?"
"Hmmm," Jen said in between mouthfuls. "Among other things."
Hedley asked, "Find anything?"
"Not yet. We're teaming up, for all the good that's done us. What are you guys doing?"
"Taking a break from editing footage," Hedley said. "There's a shit ton of it. This is the worst part of this job, I tell you."
"What's to edit?" Lena asked. "I thought you just kind of broadcast live-ish."
"We do. We may also be working on a documentary." Thompson looked from side to side in mock secrecy. "Totally hush-hush."
"Why?"
"Because the story is compelling and the visuals on this island are flat ridiculous. Am I right?"
Hedley nodded. "Some of the best footage of my life."
Thompson wagged his finger back and forth between him and his partner. "We're not against the idea of an Oscar in addition to the Pulitzer."
"Does Cameron know about this?"
"Cameron? Oh, Orpheus. No, not yet. But I won't do anything with it without his okay."
Jen looked across the table at the reporter. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that doesn't seem like you."
Thompson was about to answer when Hedley's phone rang.
Lena recognized the music. "I love that song."
"Seen 'em live three times. Excuse me, I have to take this. It's my old lady, so there might be yelling." Hedley walked away from the table and went outside.
"Where were we?" Jen asked.
"You were telling me what a scumbag weasel vulture I am." He jumped when Lena elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"
She smiled. "Yes, now I remember. Why?"
He lowered his voice, and the likeable Thompson made an appearance. "When I first heard about this gig, I pulled every string I could to get it. Any decent reporter would kill for this gig. Dead people literally coming back to life? The story is that big, maybe the single biggest story ever. That's not an exaggeration."
"Agreed," Lena said.
"On the other hand, I saw this Orpheus guy. The man who beat the zombie apocalypse. Everybody's fucking hero."
Jen said, "I'm getting something from your tone of voice."
He laughed. Lena hadn't seen it much, but it really brightened his face. She couldn't wait until they were done on this island so Tim could laugh like that again. She forced herself back to the present.
"You were supposed to," he continued. "This may come as a big shock, but I'm pretty cynical."
"Nooo," they both said in unison.
"Ha, that's
hilarious. Anyway, I've laid a lot of high and mighty people low. The more they look to be too good to be true, the easier it is. Do you remember the televangelist who was running the sex slave operation in Mississippi?"
"That was you?"
"It took me, I'm not kidding, three hours to dig up all the dirt on him. Four phone calls. That's it. It took me longer to write the article."
"What are you getting at?"
"Lena, the better they look, the worse they really are, and I enjoy bringing them down. I'm no prince, but I'm not hurting anybody. Except for them, and they deserve that shit."
"And you thought that Orpheus was just like them."
"Thought? Hell, I knew he was just like them. My experience said that he had to be."
"And now?"
Thompson paused long enough to take a bite of his sandwich. He took his time, wanting to get the answer right. "He's got his flaws. But he's the real deal. And I can't do anything but respect that." He took another bite. After he swallowed, he asked, "This'll sound stupid, but have you ever seen Iron Eagle?"
Jen said, "That fighter plane movie from the 80's?"
He laughed. "That's the one. I remember the first time I watched it with my dad. There's a part in there where someone asks Lou Gossett why he did something nice for someone. He said something like, 'He earned my respect, and I'll do a lot for people I respect.' That always stuck with me."
"That's actually kind of sweet," Lena said sincerely.
"Yeah, it's a nice sentiment. The problem is that I don't often run across people to respect in my line of work."
Jen said, "Well, now you have us."
He smirked. "I was talking about Holt. I never said anything about you two."
The War at Home
Trent was on his second cup of coffee when he received a text. It said, "MAKE THE CALL."
He clapped his hands together gleefully. "All right! Let's do this!"
The clap made Jackie sit straight up. She didn't like how happy he was. His happy was anyone else's creepy. "Let's do what?"
"It's your time to shine. Don't worry, you don't have to do much. I'll do the talking." He grabbed her phone and opened the video call app. He scrolled through until he found Holt's number. His finger hovered above the call button. "Before I make this call, be honest with me. Does your old man actually know how to use the app?"
"Yes."
"Nice to hear that he's staying current." Trent pressed call and waited for it to ring through on the other end.
O
"You guys hear that?" Ethan asked.
They listened more intently.
There it was again.
"I think it's coming from your pants, Captain," Hedley said.
Orpheus reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. Hedley was right. He was getting a video call from Jackie. This struck him as odd, seeing as she never called him, video or otherwise, during the work day. She always waited for him to make contact so she knew that she wouldn't be interrupting something that could literally be a life or death situation. That's why he didn't recognize the sound of an incoming call on his phone.
He hit a button, and her face filled the screen. "Hey, babe," he said.
"Hi, Cam, sorry to bother you at work."
He immediately knew that something was wrong. The angle of her camera seemed off, like she wasn't holding it. Her voice didn't have the same lighthearted quality that he knew like the back of his hand.
"What's wrong?" His first thought was that something had happened to one of her parents, but before she could answer, a strange face filled the screen
"What's wrong? That depends upon which side of the call you're on, I guess."
Everyone had stopped to look at Orpheus, and no one spoke.
"Who are you? So I know what to put on the tombstone?"
"Oh, we'll get to that in a moment."
Rachel and Ethan exchanged a look. This can't be happening.
"You know, I met you once. Maybe not met, but I saw you in person. You wouldn't remember it. We were at the hospital, and you'd just come back from one of your night missions. I remember seeing you and thinking, 'I honestly wouldn't want to fuck with that guy.' But you just don't seem as scary when I have your wife tied to a chair."
Rage and near-paralyzing fear were fighting for control inside of Orpheus. He recognized that he had no leverage, and asked, as calmly as he could, "Have you hurt her?"
The man turned the camera toward Jackie. "Take a look. She's fine." Orpheus got a long enough look to see that she was bound to a chair, then the caller's face was back. "I even made her a sandwich. The mayo was a few days past the expiration date, but YOLO, right?"
"You have my gratitude. Please keep it that way."
The caller laughed. "I recognize that this shit must be torture for you. I've seen you in action, and diplomacy isn't your thing. But you're doing great. Keep it up and you and your little lady here will see each other again." Then an unmistakable darkness descended into his voice. The effect was chilling. "Maybe."
Hearing this broke whatever spell Orpheus was under. "You hurt her and you're a dead man. A dead man. You can't run far or fast enough."
Trent mock yawned. "Don't cross me, Orpheus. You're not holding any cards, and you know it. If you fuck with me, she's dead. And I won't be satisfied with just her, if you catch my drift. If you even attempt to leave that island, believe me, I'll know about it, and I'll kill her. You have a different job to do, anyway. Do you understand me?"
Orpheus nodded.
The caller adopted a condescending tone. "Say it. Say that you understand."
"I understand."
"Good."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Give me the cure."
"The cure? That's what this is about?"
"I know you have it. It has to be somewhere in this house."
"No, I have it on me."
"You have it? Like in your pocket?"
Orpheus held up the pouch. "Right here. I wasn't going to leave it lying around. It's yours. Leave my wife alone and it's yours."
"Why would you give it up?"
Orpheus lied. "It's only a matter of time before someone figures it out, and I'd like to keep my wife alive."
This seemed to throw Trent. "Well, give it to me!"
"As soon as I can arrange a ride, I'll hand it to you. We can meet anywhere you want."
Trent composed himself and said, "No, I want Ethan to bring it to me. Put him on."
"Ethan? Why do you want to speak to him?"
"Don't make me ask again. Your wife currently still has all of her fingers."
Orpheus reluctantly handed the phone to his son, who looked terrified.
"Ethan! Long time, no tie a motherfucker up and leave him for dead, buddy!"
Ethan was speechless.
Trent was in his house. Threatening his mother.
"I should've killed you," was all he could say.
"Yup. I'll give you a moment to let it sink in. Let me know when you're ready."
Ethan blinked rapidly. "What do you want?"
"Right to the point. I like it. I want you. I want you to get your happy ass back to Ohio, go where I tell you, and hand me the cure. You do that, your mom lives. Simple as that."
Everyone heard Jackie screaming in the background, imploring Ethan to not do it. Everyone reacted in some way ... a gasp, a curse ... except for Orpheus. He was a statue.
Rachel closed the gap between her and Ethan and gripped his arm. Ethan found his voice again. "How do I know that you'll leave my mother alone?"
"Because I don't fucking care about her!" Trent screamed. He regained control of himself and said, "I care about the money the cure will bring me. And ..." There was menace in what Trent didn't say. He wanted to revenge against Ethan and his father. Ethan, for leaving him for dead, and Orpheus, for killing his brother in self-defense. In Trent's twisted mind, that made him the aggrieved party.
Ethan knew what he was going to s
ay. What else could he say? "Okay. I'll do it."
His mother's scream came through the phone loud and clear. "Ethan, no!"
Trent turned to Jackie and said, "You shut the fuck up or I may decide to start with you, after all."
"Whoa, whoa," Ethan said. "I already said that I'm on my way."
"I expected no less. You also have a deadline."
"I'm coming, I swear. But I'm on an island halfway across the country, and we're quarantined by the U.S. fucking government. I can't just leave."
"Who are you kidding? I know how resourceful you are. You'll figure it out."
"Trent, listen ...”
"No more listening, kid. Get here, or I'll just cap her and get moving."
Ethan was about to beg him for more time when Trent's head turned rapidly away, as if he heard something that surprised him. Then he yelled and disappeared from view as Jackie's phone hit the floor camera side down. All they could hear was the sounds of struggle, screams, and a gunshot.
The Orpheus men yelled for her at the same time.
O
Jackie did everything she could to stay calm, but knowing what the intruder Trent had in mind for Ethan had pushed her over the edge into outright panic. She had no doubt her son would come for her, and she had no doubt that he would end up dead. He was nearly as capable as his father was, but he was at every possible disadvantage. She didn't see how her son could make it out alive.
Her mind raced, looking for something, anything that she could use against Trent. She was mostly unbound, only her right arm was tethered to the chair. This was a nod to Trent's assessment of her, that she was more dangerous than she looked. However, that was balanced by his desire to not be saddled by her complaints of limbs that had fallen asleep, probably. So he moved anything that she could use as a weapon and just kind of kept an eye on her.
The truth was that she had no intention of being the aggressor until he'd brought up Ethan.
There was no way that she'd let this man hurt her boy. The coward would never admit it, but he was a bit afraid of her, if only because of who her husband was. That made her angrier.