Plague Unleashed (The Intern Diaries Book 2)

by D. C. Gomez

  “I just feel like I’ll let everyone down.” My eyes were misty. Constantine jumped down and sat on my lap. We were almost at eye level with each other.

  “Isis, let me explain something to you. We have thousands of killers in this world, hundreds of suicide bombers, and a plethora of angry people. Today you saved Eugene, got evidence back that we needed, found the missing boyfriend, and to top things off, you gave Bartholomew a family. You can’t compare those things.” Constantine made sure that I was looking at him and listening. “Every other horsemen’s job is to kill humanity. You saw what Eugene and his peeps could do. Our job is simple. Take care of souls. You give them hope and respect when they most need it. Don’t dismiss that.”

  I had tears running down my cheeks.

  “Constantine, sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough for this.” I was feeling overwhelmed. “I’m not a very good intern.”

  “We’re in luck. You don’t have to be good, just be you. That is plenty. Follow your instincts and trust in your family. They trust you, Isis, and they won’t let you down.” We sat in silence for a moment. “When it becomes too easy to pull the trigger, is the day you should panic. That’s when you’ve lost your moral compass. You don’t want to go down that path, regardless of how bad humanity becomes.” Constantine looked lost in thought. Like he remembered some horrible past.

  “Constantine, what happens to interns that lose their moral compass?” I wasn’t sure why that was important to me now.

  “They fall asleep in the River Styx.” I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded horrible.

  “Good to know.” That was all I could think to say.

  “I recommend you take a bath and try to rest. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  Constantine was right; tomorrow was going to be a long day.

  “I’m going to make more paintballs before calling it a day. I have a feeling we’re going to need a lot of ammo.”

  “Good plan. I got to call Eric. Make sure to drink your shake.”

  Constantine jumped off me and headed toward the computer area. I slowly got up and smiled. Sometimes Constantine had a way of surprising me. His demeanor never changed, but his words were profound.

  Chapter 31

  It wasn’t even five by the time I woke up. I was on edge and stressed out. Everyone had worked until at least eleven last night. Eugene was busy making more knocked-out formula for the paint guns and working on his plague-killing concoction. We called it plague-killer because calling it an antidote was still against Eugene’s principles. Bartholomew had hooked up teleconferencing screens in the lab, so every hour the lab team could dial in with updates and potential solutions. My eyeballs were boiling by the time we were done. Bartholomew, Bob, and I left Eugene to his work. We needed sleep. Constantine kept him company. Not sure if that was good or bad for Eugene.

  I didn’t get any rest; I had nightmares all night. Fortunately, these were not my usual nightmares. I suffered from nightmares, which ranged from my parents’ deaths to my comrades’ death in Iraq to the day I accidentally killed Teck. My nightmares got progressively worse, to the point that the dead were talking to me in my sleep. Sometimes the conversations were good, other times they were screaming for help. The blessing of Reapers was having those dreams stop. Constantine believed the wards on the building were blocking them. Bartholomew, on the other hand, thought it was Death herself who ended them.

  Honestly, I didn’t care who had stopped them or how. I was grateful I could sleep. Constantine was also pretty sure somebody or something was making the souls torment me. That was another piece of information I was not concerned about. After meeting the devil, I was not interested in asking him or giving him any personal questions that could be used against me. So I enjoyed the lack of nightmares. My nightmare last night was strange. I was chased by the gingerbread man from Shrek all over Texarkana. According to him, he was bringing the pie man to destroy us.

  Not the most terrifying dream, so it was easy to dismiss it once I woke up. But the lack of sleep had me tense. I considered going for a run or working out downstairs, but I did not want to wake anybody. If I was stressed, I knew everyone was ready to blow. I compromised. I did a quick workout circuit in my room with deafening music. By the time I was done, I felt better. I was thoroughly awake and focused. I needed to be functioning, and the workout did the trick. Unlike the accountant, my first priority was not the job, but my family. I needed to give them structure so we could make it through the day.

  By the time I made it to the loft, it was six-thirty in the morning, but the boys were ready and dressed. Bob was working his magic on the stove, while Bartholomew played with some controllers nervously. I made my way to Bob so that I could see what he was making. We had a big breakfast by the looks of it—eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fresh fruit. We discovered that when Bob was agitated, he cooked. It was a better habit than cleaning guns. He did that for the first month and had all of us on high alert. I grabbed a piece of melon and kept on walking.

  “You’re going to ruin your breakfast,” Bob told me without looking away from his pancakes.

  “I’m so hungry, I doubt it. It smells amazing in here.” I replied with a smile. Bob was a typical cook; he loved to know what we thought of his food.

  “I got banana pancakes, and they’ll be done in two minutes,” Bob said with a smile on his face.

  “Morning,” I told Bartholomew and Constantine, who were already sitting around the table. Everyone had been busy. The table was set and ready.

  “Top of the morning to you.” I wasn’t sure if Bartholomew was watching too many army or Irish movies, but he was picking up their phrases. He put his controller away and faced me. “What’s the plan?”

  “Let’s keep it simple. Search and destroy,” I told them. Bob stopped in mid-flip, and Constantine finished cleaning his face with his paw.

  “My kind of plan,” Constantine said with an evil smile.

  “You got my attention, explain.” Bartholomew was watching me with a smile.

  “Simple. If the accountant has been feeding college students pies for the last couple of weeks, we’re going to have a zombie-galore. Step one, we need to contain the situation until Eugene gets his plague-killer done. We need to buy him time, so shoot and move out.” I waited for everyone to nod to show they were following me. “Step two, we need to shut down her pie stand and destroy all the pies. We don’t need any new zombies joining the party. Third, we need to make sure we capture the accountant. The last thing we need is for her to start all of this somewhere else. Everyone with me?”

  I was always amazed how things came to you when you were working out or in the shower.

  “I like it. Simple, destructive, and to the point. Nice job, Isis.” Constantine was smiling like a proud parent.

  “Let’s not celebrate just yet. We still have to execute this. Bartholomew, is your robot ready for competition?”

  “Oh trust me, Terminator is ready.”

  Bartholomew had named his robot Terminator. I was afraid to ask what this robot looked like.

  “Good, we’re going to need it. We need to get in and start scouting the park. All participants have VIP access according to the packet they gave Bartholomew yesterday.” I felt like a proud parent or responsible older sister; I did manage to read his instructions. I haven’t read my manual, but anything dealing with Bartholomew I paid close attention to. “Bob and I will go with you, as your robot assistants. While you’re setting up Terminator, we’ll check out the park. Constantine, you have aerial support. We need eyes in the sky. Just don’t blow anything up, OK?” I gave Constantine a level look.

  “One little fountain, and the whole world goes paranoid. By the way, it was a hideous fountain anyway; the new one is so much better.” Constantine had blown up a memorial fountain and half of the post office with his drone last fall, fighting witches. We learned very qu
ickly that Constantine was trigger happy, and little reminders were needed.

  “Yes, the new fountain is beautiful, but the old one was pretty nice too. So let’s keep Spring Lake in one piece today.” The College Bowl was taking over most of the park, and I was hoping the park would be standing after we were done.

  “Fine, but nobody likes those fountains in that park anyway,” Constantine said, looking very dignified. I couldn’t help it; I had to smile. Bartholomew and Bob were doing the same thing.

  “Any questions?” I asked the boys, and they all shook their heads. Most of the time Constantine was in charge of planning. But we found out when it came to planning around human events or significant locations, it was safer if I did it. The destruction and collateral damage was a lot smaller with my plans. Bob handed drinks all around—orange juice and hot chocolate, of course. He had a huge mug of coffee for himself. My phone went off, and I almost jumped. I forgot I had the stupid thing in my pocket.

  “Hi, Eric. You’re up early.” If Eric was calling at this hour, it was not good. I put him on speakerphone, so I could save myself from having to repeat everything.

  “We got a body.”

  “Should we be worried?” I asked after a moment of silence.

  “It meets the description of your accountant. I pulled some strings, and got permission to let you come and ID the body.” Eric sounded very proud of himself. Why would I ever want to see a dead body right after breakfast? I didn’t mind souls at all. I enjoyed them. But dead bodies decompose at an incredible rate, and they smell. Not to mention once the soul leaves, the body stops looking human and just falls apart.

  “Great. Can’t wait.” I didn’t want Eric to think I wasn’t appreciative. I made a crazy face to Bartholomew in shock. Bartholomew covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

  “I’ll send you the directions. See you when you get here,” Eric said in his official police-officer voice.

  “Thanks. See you soon.” We disconnected the call, and I looked around the room.

  “Do you think it’s her?” Bob asked me as he started bringing food over.

  “I don’t think we’re that lucky. She’s straight crazy. I doubt she accidentally fell over dead right before her huge event.” I started cutting my pancakes while I spoke. Constantine was devouring his bacon and sausage already, and Bartholomew was covering his pancakes in syrup. I had no idea where Bob found the recipe, but his gluten-free pancake mix was out of this world.

  “Are you going?” Bartholomew asked, before popping a massive piece of pancake in his mouth.

  “We can’t take any chances. If it’s her, we need to know, sooner rather than later. But our plan still stands. Bob, you and Bart head to the park and start scouting. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I’m done with Eric.”

  “We got this,” Bob replied when he finally started eating. We were a lot calmer now that we had a plan and marching orders. “Boss, would you make sure Eugene eats something, please? That boy is losing too much weight lately.”

  “After his all-nighter, he’ll be tired. I’ll keep an eye on him,” Constantine agreed.

  We all had things to do, but none of us rushed through breakfast. If the zombie apocalypse was starting, we were going to enjoy our meal together. We went over last-minute details on potential muster points. We were planning a small military campaign, and we were all pretty comfortable with that.

  Chapter 32

  I needed to start asking more questions. Agreeing to meet Eric at some unknown location was not a bad thing. Driving up to a police investigation with a car full of weapons was a recipe for jail time. After this past year, I needed to learn to give up my expectations of things, since they were always wrong. If I expected nothing, I would not be disappointed and still surprised. As I parked next to the yellow tape at the banks of the Red River in Hooks, I was in shock.

  I had never been out here, but the place was beautiful. It was close to hooks city limits heading north, away from the central town. The river was pretty high, due to all the winter rains. A sandy beach ran down along the river for several miles before turning back to the wild terrain. State troopers, city officers, and unmarked cars were everywhere, destroying the scenery. I did a quick mental check on my arsenal. I took the gun from my back and placed it under my seat. I wanted to make sure nobody confiscated my Smith & Wesson special.

  Cautiously I got out of Ladybug. It didn’t take long to find Eric; he was standing by a group of men wearing diving suits. He looked up and waved at me. I waved back. I wondered how he knew I was looking at him. Maybe wizards and witches had a unique sense for that kind of stuff. I strolled around, trying to will myself to blend in with the rocks. It was hard; I was the only one wearing jeans and sneakers. Eric wasn’t in uniform, but he still had slacks and a polo shirt.

  “Thank you for coming, Isis. This shouldn’t take long.” Eric told me as he came closer.

  “When was she found?” I asked. With the number of people here, somebody had to have reported it hours ago.

  “We got a called from a man walking his dog out here. He found the body stuck in between two boulders. He couldn’t reach it, so he called it in.” Eric and I made our way toward the team standing around the body. “The coroner thinks she’s been dead less than a day.” As we got closer, the smell of decay grew stronger.

  “Hi, gentlemen,” Eric told his peers.

  “Are you sure about this? It’s not a pretty sight,” one of the guys wearing a white coat said to us. Maybe he was the coroner. As I looked at his serious face, I knew I wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t turn back now.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied. I realized everyone was looking at me.

  “Please, brace yourself.” He pulled the tarp back from the body with one smooth motion. He was the coroner and used to seeing dead bodies. He didn’t flinch like the rest of us.

  Oh lord, it was a horrible sight. I took a quick step back and covered my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to puke all over their evidence. Eric was right. It was a match for height, weight, and shape. But the face was missing. It looked like an animal had taken a huge bite out of it. Eric was looking pale next to me. I was glad I wasn’t the only one traumatized. As much as I stared at the destroyed body, there was no way to confirm the identity. So convenient. No way of knowing till the police department ran its tests. My gut was telling me she was playing with us. I took a few steps away before I could get a delicious whiff of the smell.

  “Sorry sir, I really can’t say for sure if it’s her or not,” I told the coroner. “Would you be able to identify her by her fingerprints or anything else?” I was hoping those detective shows were based on some kind of truth, because I had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Eventually, yes. It’ll take some time to go over all the evidence and go through all of our databases. But we’ll get it done.” The coroner smiled at me. I was sure he was trying to make me feel better. I wondered if Eric had told these people I was a friend of the family. My phone vibrated and brought me back to reality. I excused myself and took a few steps away from the group.

  “Bob, what’s going on?” I was so grateful for color ID.

  “Isis, we got a problem.” I was pretty sure Bob forgot that we had started the week with problems.

  “I’m all ears. What’s up?”

  “She has three pie stands here,” Bob said, sounding almost incredulous.

  “Three? Are you kidding me? How is she going to pull that off?”

  “She’s pretty smart. She hired college students to run them. According to all the kids, their delivery truck arrives at nine with all their pies.

  “Of course it does. There is nothing simple for us.” I looked around to watch more people wander around carrying stuff. “OK Bob. You’re going to have to hold it down till I get there.”

  “Is the dead body the accountant?” Bob asked in a whisper. He was prob
ably around people and couldn’t talk regularly.

  “Can’t be determined yet. The face is missing, as if something ate it,” I whispered,

  “You were right, Isis. Nothing easy,” Bob replied.

  “Tell me about it. Be careful and keep your eyes open.” This was a minor setback but nothing we couldn’t handle.

  “You too. See you when you get here.” Bob disconnected. I made my way back to Eric.

  “Is everything OK?” Eric asked when the others were distracted.

  “We got three pie stands at the bowl. Eric, things are going to get nasty unless you can call it off,” I told him without looking at him.

  “Isis, I don’t have that much power or connections. The mayor would kill me if I said we needed to cancel this event with no actual proof. Somehow I doubt he’ll buy zombie apocalypse as a convincing campaign.”

  I hated to admit it, but Eric was right. Nobody was ever going to believe we had a zombie invasion in Texarkana.

  “Hey Eric, we found a basket. Any ideas?” A state trooper was walking over toward us.

  “What kind of basket?” I was afraid of what he was going to tell me.

  “You won’t believe it. It’s an actual picnic basket. I didn’t think they still make these. It looks like something went through it,” the state trooper said, almost laughing.

  “Show me, please.” I was a little too forceful because the state trooper was staring at me. He pointed in the directions of the basket. Two other officers were examining the contents.

  “Stop! Don’t touch it.” I yelled, running in their direction. Eric was right behind me. I made it to the little group and looked at the basket. The basket was destroyed. My fears were correct; the basket still had small pieces of pies inside.

  “Isis, what’s going on?” Eric demanded.

  “We got a problem. Those pies are probably contaminated, and if something ate them, this could be bad.” I looked at him as I spoke. I was hoping I was wrong.

  “Everyone, keep your eyes open,” Eric told the officers.