by D. C. Gomez
“OK, see you guys inside,” I told Bob. “Thank you, Shorty.”
Shorty was already in the driver’s seat, ready to take off. He rolled down his passenger window. “Going to make some rounds and see what else I find. It’s going to be a busy week.”
I was afraid Shorty was right. I waved at him and drove around to the back of Reapers to the vehicle’s entrance.
After Ladybug and I had cleared all the securities, we slowly pulled up to our spot. Bartholomew and Bob had dragged William to the practice area and laid him on a bench. He looked like a rag doll, lying around all limp. Constantine was sitting on the opposite side of the bench, looking down on the poor man. I jumped out and walked over to the boys. As I made my way over, Eugene was coming out of Bob’s apartment. He was wearing jeans and a Beatles T-shirt. He looked so young in his casual clothes.
“What’s going on? Who’s the guy?” Eugene asked as he got near. I was staring at zombie William, who was looking worse by the minute.
“Isis’s date,” Bartholomew immediately replied, being the kind of twelve-year-old that he was.
I glared at him.
“You went on a date with that guy?” Eugene was staring down at William. I glared back at Eugene as well.
“It was a blind date, thanks to those two.” I pointed at Constantine and Bob for extra effect.
“Hey, he looked normal in uniform,” Bob replied.
“Besides, his resume, background check, and credit report were excellent,” Constantine added.
“Newsflash, gentlemen. Everyone looks great on paper. But in case you both missed it, it was a date, not a job application. I wasn’t looking for a secretary.” For such a wise group of men, when it came to dating, they were worse than me.
“We might need better interview questions,” Constantine told Bob.
“You guys interviewed him?” Why was I asking? I didn’t want to know. “You know what? Never mind. Don’t tell me.”
Eugene was inspecting William very closely. “What happened to his face? That bruise looks fresh.”
“I slammed his head on the table,” I replied, almost to myself. Unfortunately, they all heard it, and they were staring at me.
“Really? Was it that bad of a date?” Eugene was the first to recover.
“Well, he did take me to Cici’s, and we went Dutch. Really, how cheap can you be? But that wasn’t why. He started turning into a zombie.”
All the boys took a step back from William. Even Constantine took a backward step on the bench.
“I thought you said his drug test was negative,” Bob asked Bartholomew. They were not kidding when they said they conducted a background check.
“He looks a little too nerdy to do drugs. Besides, he said he wasn’t feeling too good and thought he had flu symptoms three to four days ago.” Eugene was back to examining him.
“At least you have your live specimen,” I told Eugene.
“I’m impressed you thought about it.” Eugene looked amazed. “If my date had turned zombie on me, I doubt taking her for testing would have crossed my mind.”
I had to smile. “You’ll be surprised the things you think about on this job,” I answered.
“Well let’s not waste any time. Based on your date’s info, this thing might have an incubation period, and not a very long one,” Eugene said to nobody specifically.
“While you figure out what’s going on, we need a way to knock these guys out without fighting.” I had no idea how to pull that off if my powers did not work on the zombies. Constantine was staring at Eugene.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eugene asked, a bit worried. I didn’t blame him. Constantine’s ideas could be dangerous to your health.
“Considering you are the only lab rat here, it seems this is your area of expertise.” Constantine was right. Eugene was our resident chemist. Bob and Bartholomew both nodded in agreement.
“What, me? You want me to come up with something? I don’t even have any supplies here.” It seems Eugene was not used to being the top intern in charge.
“Come on, Eugene. According to your file you graduated at the top of your class at MIT. How hard could this be?” Bartholomew dropped that piece of information like it was nothing. Now it was my turn to be impressed. “I can order you anything you want.” That part was a fact. Bartholomew was the best supply sergeant I ever saw.
“Unfortunately Bart, we might not have twenty-four hours. We need this now before more people keep turning. I can’t afford to kick somebody and take them out, like Eric. Death would probably kill us.” I hated to be the bringer of bad news, but we needed to move fast.
“I can pick up most of the stuff I need from Walmart. I just need to get there,” Eugene told us very calmly. Now I was worried. If Eugene could pick up all his supplies at Walmart, that meant everyone else could do so as well.
“Please tell me you’re kidding?” I shook my head quickly. “Unfortunately I can’t take you. According to Shorty, we got a new drug dealer in town. Some tough guy, and he might be moving quickly, so I have to go soon.” This was going to be the week for drug dealers and zombies—great combination.
“You shouldn’t go alone. I’ll go with you. If Shorty says he’s bad news. This guy could be a straight sociopath. Shorty underplays people’s insanities.”
Why hadn’t Bob mentioned that part before? How bad could this guy honestly be?
“Are you sure you’re not just feeling guilty for setting me up on a blind date with a zombie here?” I was going to milk this little situation for a while.
“It’s not a guilt offering. Granted, your date did not turn out how we expected. I know you can handle yourself, but there’s no need to take chances.” Bob was so sincere, I felt sorry for picking on him.
“I can go alone; I just need some wheels. Can I take that one over there?” Eugene pointed to the Death Mobile.
“No.” The four of us replied in unison. Eugene jumped a little.
“You don’t want to drive the Death Mobile unless you want to die a prolonged and horrible death,” Constantine told Eugene very serious and drily. Eugene looked almost pale. I wasn’t sure if Constantine was kidding.
“Don’t listen to him. Unless it’s a dire emergency, we don’t mess with Death’s car. I’ll be going with Bob, so that you can take Ladybug.”
Eugene was a little too happy for me.
“That works, but Bartholomew is going with you, Constantine said. “I need you back, so no shopping around the county without supervision.” At least it made me feel better that Constantine had no issues.
“That really sucks…” Bartholomew was getting ready to start whining.
“Bartholomew, we got two options. One, either all of us help to stop this; or two, we watch everyone in Texarkana die. You wouldn’t have to worry about winning because everyone would be dead.”
Constantine was looking at Bartholomew as he spoke. I slowly walked away from that conversation. I didn’t want to see Bartholomew freak out. He was quiet for a minute.
“You’re right. What’s the point of having the best robot if everyone is going to be gone? I want a fair chance.”
We needed to work on Bartholomew’s priorities.
“I like the plan, but what are we going to do with little zombie over there? We can’t just leave him there. He’ll eventually wake up and try to kill us.”
“We can tie him up in the lab,” Eugene answered.
“You have stuff in the lab to tie him up with?” I wasn’t sure why I was shocked about that.
“You’d be surprised how well stocked your lab is. Anything you need to test and experiment. Not enough to develop concoctions.” Eugene smiled brightly.
“In that case that’s perfect.” I had no clue what else to say.
“Do you mind giving me a hand, Mr. Bart?” Eugene asked
Bartholomew. “This boy is tiny enough we can take him.”
Without answering Bartholomew walked over to William and picked up his right side. Eugene grabbed his left, and they dragged him along.
“Let’s go get this zombie tied up.” Bartholomew sounded a little too happy about that last part.
“If you guys give me a minute I can help.” Bob was looking indecisive, a very un-Bob thing.
“Mr. Bob, I’m pretty sure we got this. Besides you two need to get going.”
Eugene was right; we were short on time.
“Old man, listen to the rookie. He has a degree from MIT, so you know he has it going on,” Constantine said with a little smirk. I think Eugene was growing on him.
“We have too much to do and not enough people or time,” Bob said. “I need to change. Isis, meet you back here in ten?”
Before I had time to reply Bob was gone.
I took a seat next to Constantine on the space William had occupied. I didn’t want to go and talk to another drug dealer. I just wanted lunch.
“Why are you making that face?” Constantine said.
“What face?” Was I making faces now?
“That one, like someone beat your puppy.” Constantine kept staring, waiting for me to say something.
“I thought that I was hungry. I was trying to be good and skip the gluten. So I had a few bites of salad.” Maybe I pouted when I was hungry. I was very spoiled lately.
“Oh, if that’s the whole problem you’re in luck. We got you cheese and tomatoes quesadillas, Horchata and flan from Abuelita’s. The only thing you’ll need is to take it to go, so that you won’t be late.” Constantine was sitting next to me, doing his Sphinx pose. I was ready to kiss him.
“Yes! That is the best news I got all day. Thank you!” I scratched him under his ear, and he slapped my hand. Not very seriously, since Constantine was smiling already.
“It is unfortunate, but everyone in this house works for food. We have the greatest technology, best fringe benefits, yet everyone goes crazy for Abuelita’s. I’m in the wrong business.” Constantine was shaking his head as he spoke.
“Don’t even act all offended. You know you’re crazy about her cooking too.” I poke his side, and he slapped my hand away again.
“Girl, go get changed and get your food. You don’t want to leave Bob waiting.”
Constantine had a point. When Bob said ten minutes, it was only ten minutes.
“True. Here, give these to those two.” I left Ladybug’s keys next to Constantine and got up. My keychain had ladybug decorations. Constantine shook his head in disgust. I laughed to myself and ran up the stairs to get ready.
Chapter 17
Qual Brook Estates off South Lake Drive was all the instructions Shorty gave me. Somehow, according to him, I was going to recognize the place. Shorty had high expectations for me because I was pretty sure this was going to be harder than it looked. Considering we had no clue where we were going, Bob and I dressed like respectable home security salespeople. I had seen a few of them around Wake Village. Somehow people always opened their doors to them. We had slacks, button-down Polo shirts, and even company clipboards. Since nobody had a clue what Reapers was, we could use our business cards for anything.
I was convinced we were going to be going door-to-door, looking for this guy. I didn’t want to get the local authorities called on us for looking suspicious. We at least had a cover story for being in that area and something to tell people if we knocked on their doors. I had never been on the south side of town, so I had no idea what to expect, and I wanted to be prepared. We used the GPS to find the address. I was so happy Bob was with me, because by the time we saw the road I was lost.
Texarkana had tons of new subdivisions popping up everywhere. Qual Brook Estates was one of them. From the road, it looks like a long street with about twenty houses, ten on each side. Every house looked the same from the outside. The lots were not very big by Texas standards. Some of the homes were fenced off, but for the most part, they all had connecting yards.
Right now the “estates” was packed with cop cars
“Is that Eric over there?” Bob asked.
“Eric and half of the Texarkana PD.” I was praying they were not here for the same guy.
“This can’t be good.” By the sound of Bob’s voice, he had the same horrible feeling as me. “Well, let’s go check in with Eric.”
Bob parked a little farther away from Eric’s patrol car. The street wasn’t blocked off, but we didn’t want to get in trouble. I was so happy I was wearing my insurance outfit instead of Rambo clothes. We probably would have ended up in jail if we came in with all of our gear. We got out of the car and sauntered toward the patrol car. Eric saw us from his side mirror and got out of the vehicle.
“Do I want to know what you two are doing here?” Eric crossed his arms over his chest, not looking happy. Eric was spending a lot of time outside and was getting a great tan.
“Not sure if you would believe us if we told you.” I was not sure our story made sense to us.
“Try me.” Eric was not changing the subject.
“We got a tip from Shorty who knows a guy who moves a lot of stuff. We came to ask him some questions.” Well, it didn’t sound too crazy when I said it out loud. I was pleased.
“Did Shorty tell you where to find this guy and what he looks like?” By the tone of Eric’s voice, it was not a coincidence we were all here.
“You know Shorty; he wasn’t very specific.”
Bob jumped in to help me, thank God. “He said the guy was new in town. Some heavy hitter in the drug cartel—maybe Columbian or Mexican. Not sure what he was doing living here, of all places.”
I was wondering the same thing.
“Of course Shorty knows all that. Why do we bother doing work when the underground knows the stuff before we do?” Eric was not happy with Shorty’s Intel.
“Maybe you should hire Shorty as your informant. He does great work for us.” I was trying to make a joke. Unfortunately, judging by the look he gave me, I had failed.
“Yeah, we tried. Unfortunately, the underground doesn’t work for cops. They’ll never interfere with us, but they won’t rat out anybody. Imagine that.” Eric looked mad. At the same time, I was feeling pretty special. We had our intelligence network that put the authorities to shame. Point for the Reaper team.
“Sorry about that.” I figured I had to say something instead of bragging about our connections.
“No need. Unfortunately, you narco boy here is not your guy. He’s been under surveillance for the past week. He hasn’t left the house, and no unusual guests have visited.” Eric sounded pretty sure about all that.
“I assume all the lines are tapped, and you’ve been monitoring his communication.” Bob was pretty familiar with cops’ operating procedures.
“Our equipment is not as sophisticated as Bartholomew’s, but our people are top-notch. They have been monitoring everything from phone, email, to even the things they watch.” Eric was looking over at a white van parked across the street. “We’re getting ready to take him out. He’s preparing to move a large shipment, but no mention of zombie drugs anywhere.”
Great, we drove all the way over here for nothing.
I guessed Shorty was right. We were not going to have any trouble finding the place. I looked over at the house the cops were surrounding. It was the house Bob had parked in front of. Of course, it was. That was our luck for everything. As I watched the house, a short man was sneaking around the back slowly. He was probably less than five foot five, with shiny black hair. If he was the infamous narco, we had a small problem. The man was not Latin at all, but Asian, and he wasn’t wearing any pants.
“Eric, by any chance is that our guy?” I pointed at him.
“Holy cow, it’s him. He hasn’t been seen outside since he got
here.” That was the understatement of the century, since they didn’t even know his nationality. Great work, Eric and Shorty. “Where are his pants?”
“Who cares about his pants? What is he carrying?” Bob was staring at the little narco very closely. In his left hand, he had what looked like a bottle. I wasn’t sure, since that was his side facing away from us.
“Probably his liquor. He is stumbling around,” I said.
“I don’t think so, unless he takes his vodka flaming.”
I couldn’t see what Bob was pointing at.
“Die, you pigs!” Little narco screamed. He threw the bottle, and it landed on the back of the Beast. We heard the bottle break.
“Look out,” Bob yelled and pushed me to the ground. A loud explosion followed. My ears were ringing for over a minute.
“What just happened?” My head was spinning. Bob was helping me get back on my feet.
“Oh Bob, I’m so sorry, man. He blew up your truck.” Eric was looking in the direction of the truck in pure horror. “What did he have in that bottle? I’ll be back.”
Eric took off running in the direction of the fire.
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the bottle that made that explosion.” Bob looked at his truck and then back at me.
“Bob, do I want to know what you were carrying in the Beast?” I was a little concerned about the well-being of the cops around the truck.
“Let’s just say it’s a blessing the Beast is in flames. By the time the fire department shows up, there won’t be anything left. Let me make some calls.” Bob took a few steps away to use the phone.
Bob wasn’t lying. The fire was massive. The flames were growing. I walked around to check out what the cops were doing on the other side. They had surrounded the little narco, who was lying on the grass. Some other cops had rushed into the house and were dragging people out. The scene looked like massive chaos. Half of the people they were dragging around were half-naked and looked stoned. If they were genuinely dealing drugs, they were using a lot of their merchandise. Eric was running back in my direction. That boy liked to run.
“What happened?” I asked Eric before he made it to me.