“Gladys also said that she observed on several occasions that there was a different vehicle going in and out of Holly’s garage. She said the car was white and large and looked like a police car. She was right about that part - but it was MY unmarked Tahoe take home police car, NOT Jake’s. The prosecutor put his own little spin on this bit of information. He was attempting to convince the jury that Jake was the one driving that car into Holly’s garage and having a secret affair with her. Butit was really me,” Mack said.
Anthony interrupted. “Whoa. Hold on. You were banging who?” Mack continued. “And then Ferron speculated that Holly ended this fling with Jake, causing him to go there on that February 8thto seek revenge. Ferron’s theory was that Jake plotted to kill Holly for dumping him. And when Jake tried to get away after that murder, Rich tried to stop him from leaving with Carson. And then Jake had to kill Rich so Jake could get away with the crime. All lies! Every word!” Mack said.
Anthony asked, “so why were they framing Jake for murder when it was clearly something very different?”
“That’s a great question,” Mack said.
Duy continued to navigate the orange Avalanche toward Virginia as Mack continued to work through his investigation. “I need to call Michelle. Maybe she has some answers for me.” Mack picked up his cell to call her.
“Hey, Michelle. How’s it going? “
“Hi Mack, good to hear from you! Any luck finding Jake? “
“Nahhh, not yet. But we are still out and about searching for him. I was wondering if you
had any new information for me that might help us make sense of what is going on with this whole plague thing going on. Maybe a little scientific and medical expertise as to what turned these people into creatures may also assist us in our goal as well.”
Mack put his smartphone speaker on as Michelle began to recite some of her findings. “Well, I’ve been working on a timeline and conducting studies based upon some of the specimens we are examining here in Dallas County. I have also reviewed several reports from the cases of my colleague medical examiners throughout the country.
“It seems as if the first of the infecte d started out as either military personnel or small groups of people who reportedly were abducted in Florida and California. They were basically guinea pigs in some superhuman type drug experimentation.
“And then it appears as if some of the infected wande red northbound up the coasts. Others went more inland toward the center of the country,” Michelle said.
“How long after they become infected do they switch over to those other things?” Anthony asked.
“That’s difficult to say exactly. But it seems that, much like with other diseases, it takes varying periods for a person to contract the disease or, in this case, to transform. It all depends upon several different factors; the size of the dose, the health of the person, the temperature, and so on,” Michelle said.
“So, we are seeing once -humans, who should be dead, still up and walking around. Meanwhile, their bodies are in one of the five stages of decomposition. Blowflies and other insects are laying eggs in them and eating the infected flesh.
“The flies t hen land on living people, usually in their sleep. Most of them are outdoors; campers, firemen battling a wildfire, road construction crew, the mailman, etcetera. That’s how the flies spread the toxic disease to new living hosts. As a result, it has led to mass amounts of these creatures. And then, as these ‘zombies’ travel and kill, their victims turn as well. And they multiply again.
“I have read reports of the dead being dumped by the masses into lakes, streams, and rivers. This is polluting and contaminating those bodies of water. Mosquitoes and other bacteria-carrying insects spend some of their life cycles in that water. So then they get contaminated too. Then they go all over the place, landing on healthy humans and spreading the disease even more.”
“Oh my god.” Mack suddenly began to feel itchy. “So how many of these THINGS are they estimating to be out there? And are they everywhere?”
“The numbers are roughly between three to five thousand right now, with many of them along the coasts. But there are pockets scattered throughout other regions of the U.S. as well.
“Some different teams and neighborhood watch groups have formed up and gathered with the intentions of going out to eradicate them from their towns. It's like Salem all over again with these modern-day witch hunts. Some groups have had some success, while others never made it back home.”
“It’s all so crazy. Hard to believe this is real and not some bizarre movie from the science fiction channel,” Mack said in amazement.
“Oh, by the way Mack. You remember this Camacho asshole with the FBI that tes tified against Jake? So, he’s been showing up everywhere asking about Jake, saying he’s going to track Hathaway down for his escape charge. Said he’s gonna also charge him for the murder of the prison guards on the bus as a result of Jake’s get-away plot.”
Mack became incensed. “First of all, Jake didn’t murder any HUMAN. Second of all, why would he plot an escape when it was just a matter of time until his conviction would be overturned on appeal?”
“I know, I don’t get it either. And that jerk C amacho has been harassing me ever since the day he met me at Rich’s house on the day of the birthday party.”
Mack said, “Wait a minute. Dallas PD never called your agency out to that scene. And I thought you all didn’t get involved in the federal cases.”
Michelle hem hawed for a moment, acting suspiciously uneasy and searching for an answer. “Oh, that’s right. Our office received an anonymous call that there were bodies to be picked up at an address on Matilda. I was close by and went there to verify whether a transport team was needed. By then, Mack, you had already left the scene. The FBI, Camacho, told me they were working the case and did not need our help. I told him it was protocol that all bodies in the county be examined in our office. Agent Camacho then told me there was a new protocol called the ‘Camacho Rule’. He told me I needed to leave or be arrested. So, I left. I have no idea what happened to those bodies or where they were taken.”
Eager to change the topic, Michelle mentioned, “Oh, I finally got in contact with Amanda. I asked her how she was doing, told her I was concerned because I hadn’t heard from her lately.”
Mark was intrigued. “What did she say? Is it true that she really married that other guy she had been telling you about?” “ Yes. And I asked her what changed because last time we spoke she said she hated the guy. She didn’t respond and stopped talking. I had to ask if she was still on the line and she said, ‘I’ll be okay.’ It was a weird conversation, to say the least.”
The Hail Mary, Dallas Texas Talluci returned to manage the sports bar/restaurant that he owned. His right arm was still in a sling as a result of his role in the K9 jailbreak, but he was healing rapidly. He was still relying on some strong pain meds and a lot of booze to get through the sleepless nights. This allowed him to function relatively well during the daytime so he could get back in the saddle and operate his business again.
Dave was making his rounds, chatting it up with his regular patrons. They were happy to see the chipper bar owner back tending to his establishment. A news story flashed upon the flatscreen TV above the bar: exorcisms were reportedly on the rise. These increased occurrences were a result of the numerous infected persons who appeared to be acting irrationally, as if they had been possessed by demonic beings. They were not responding when spoken to and exhibited far-off glances. They were making sounds sometimes misinterpreted by others who believed them to be “speaking in tongues.” Families and/or caretakers of these victims, not knowing any better and without the knowledge of the current state of infection in their area, believe their loved ones may be possessed by evil forces or demons. Many were calling upon the church for help.
On a related note, the number of priests who had since become infected through bites from the befouled had risen by the same percentage. Meanwhile, a famil
iar blonde female customer sat alone at a booth in the far back left corner. Mack’s friend Megan Anderson, the sensational-looking lady law enforcer, appeared to be down and distraught.
Dave moseyed up to her and remarked, “Hi. Megan, right? How are you?” “So, you are friends with Mack, and you were with Jake too, right?”
“Umm, yeah.”
“Have you heard anything from Mack since he left on his trip?”
“No. Nothing.”
Megan sighed and returned to her tall glass containing a fruity mixed drink. Dave gingerly set his repaired right wrist onto the table as he lowered himself to sit down
on the bench seat across from Megan.
“Can I ask you something off topic?” Dave asked.
“I guess so.”
“It’s just – you’re beautiful. How did you decide to be a cop?”
A roll of the eyes and a pause by the young woman was followed by, “Aren’t you kind of
old to be hitting on me?”
“I’m not -I’m just saying...” “Do you know how many times I have heard that? What is wrong with you men? Are you all so inadequate that you cannot handle seeing an attractive woman in any sort of position of authority? I guess you all are too busy imagining us in OTHER positions. If I wasn’t pretty but more masculine, you wouldn’t have a problem with me telling you what to do, right?”
Dave sat speechless, fearful and smart enough to know better than to try and interject at this point of the conversation. “And the guys at work are just as bad. It’s such a male -dominated career. If you are even a decent-looking woman and you are a police officer, you are screwed. All the guys you work with either want to bang you or they don’t like you because you won’t do them, or they have this male chauvinistic attitude that women don’t belong in the profession. Even other women cops who aren’t as attractive are jealous of you because the guys aren’t interested in them… so basically you have no friends and no support system. Wonderful career choice, huh?”
A thick sap of sarcasm was oozing from her lips.
“It’s no wonder cops’ lives are so dysfunctional.” Megan went on. “We have some of the
highest divorce and suicide rates, and short life expectancies after retirement. And not only that, we are living in a society now that is fullof cop haters, cop killers, etc.”
“So now, you tell me…how do YOU think I feel about being a cop?”
“Ohhh. I’m sorry I asked.” Dave said. “I didn’t know...”
Having just unloaded on the well–meaning bar owner, Megan finished off her cocktail and began to feel badly about the pounding she had just unleashed on Dave.
“Hey, I’m sorry. If you’re friends with Mack and Jake, then I’m sure you are a good guy. I just have a lot of shit going on right now.”
“It’s no problem. I get it.”
“Hey, if you do hear from Mack, will you let me know?” Megan asked.
“Of course. I sure hope that he was right about Jake possibly being still alive.”
“Say what???” Megan was caught completely off guard.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Dave asked.
“No -what’s going on?”
“Let me get you another drink. You’re gonna need it. I better get one for myself as well…”
Chapter Thirty - The Dead Precedence
Newport News, Virginia Alice’s green K ia Soul was riding on fumes, with the gasoline level showing less than a quarter tank of gas.
“I’m starving,” Denise declared.
“Here, have a hot dog,” Jake offered as he pulled a napkin-wrapped Big Dog from his pants pocket.
“What the…? That’s shoplifting. And you’re supposed to be a cop?”
Jake philosophized, “It was shoplifting back when we lived in a society with laws and rules. This is not that anymore. I’m not sure exactly what THIS is, but it’s not THAT. Now it’s all about survival and not much else.”
Denise began to utilize the camera on her smartphone in order to take a picture of her Cumberland Farms dinner. Jake chuckled. “Really? Don’t tell me you’re going to post that? You really think people care about seeing what you’re eating for dinner at this point? Do they know we just survived a friggin’ zombie attack?
“When those abominations were lumbering after us in the parking lot, why didn’t you stop and say, ‘Timeout, creatures! I need to update my status to ‘currently running for my fucking life?’”
“You just don’t understand -you ‘Boomers are too old to get it...” “Oh yeah, I’m sooo old. At least I, unlike you millennials, can communicate with people in conversations, face to face, and not just through my smartphone or on Instasnap or FaceChat. If it wasn’t for social media I don’t know if you kids would be able to communicate at all.”
“That’s not what they’re called…” Denise smirked. The elder continued. “It’s no wonder so many job forces are struggling to find good, qualified college grads with adequate people skills anymore. We were struggling even with the rookie cops we were hiring in Dallas. They were having trouble asking even the basic questions they needed answered in order to take simple reports. They were struggling to take control of scenes and situations, had a lack of initiative, no command presence.”
The elder of the two halted as he noticed the troubled teen began to tear up and had suddenly become silent.
“Jake… “
“Yeah? “
“I miss my mom and dad. Even my brother. Me and him weren’t super close because we each had a lot going on in our own little worlds, I guess. But I do miss him too. I can’t believe they’re all gone.”
“I know, kid. I’m sorry you have to go through that.”
“Have you ever lost anybody you were close to like that?” Denise asked.
Jake replied, “My mom recently passed away. And my brother and sister-in-law got taken from me much the way your brother was. And losing family is the most difficult, of course. “But I also lost a couple close frie nds in the Marine Corps when we were deployed in the Middle East. It really sucked. Even though when you are enlisted in the military, it’s in the back of your mind that you could be killed or hurt badly. But you don’t think about the fact that you could make good friends and lose them there just as easily.
“And as bad as it hurt when those buddies of mine got killed, it still was not nearly as life - changing as the time my fellow Dallas Officer Derek Parrish perished.”
“What happened to him?” Denise asked.
“Me and Derek were in t he same academy class. When we graduated, I was assigned to the Central Division, and he was sent to Southeast. We saw each other occasionally at the jail when we were booking our arrestees in, but that was about the only time. We didn’t hang out off duty or even keep in touch really. One night he was working his patrol beat when he heard another officer was in pursuit of a kidnapping suspect’s vehicle. The car chase was headed in his direction, so he pulled his squad car over and grabbed the spike strips out of the trunk. He went to deploy them in front of the bad guy’s car. He was hoping to flatten the tires and get the vehicle stopped so they could rescue the kidnapping victim. But when the kidnapper approached and saw the strips lying across the freeway,he swerved hard to the right to avoid them. The bad guy’s car struck Parrish as he stood beside his car. Killed him instantly.”
“But if you guys weren’t that close, why did you say it was worse than when your soldier friends died?”
“I guess because when we signed on to be cops, we really didn’t think of it as that dangerous of a job not like going off to war. Cops weren’t getting killed every day in this country like they are now. Or at least you didn’t hear about it if they were, before social media took off like it has. So, to lose someone that I know closely and trained with, and in the way that he did… he was a great guy with a wife and a couple kids. It’s sad. It really caught me off guard and made me stop to re-evaluate my career decision and life.
“But then again, even be
fore this whole zombie thing began, the job had changed. The WORLD has changed. Society has no respect for law enforcement, or for any authority - for that matter. Cops began to get killed much more often than they used to - being assaulted, ambushed while they are eating at a restaurant or stopped at a red light in an intersection. It’s as if we are at war here in our own backyards.”
All his stories having bored her to sleep, Jake sympathized with the teen traveler. Not only had she lost her family recently to the infected ones, but he truly felt himself commiserating for her and this younger generation. He pitied those who might never again be able to experience life in a world free of the disease and devastation that they currently were on the fringe of experiencing.
Hathaway eased the Soul eastbound down the Newport News street called Haystack Landing Road. This was a similar trek; one he had taken a couple years earlier when he spent a week of vacation at his buddy and former coworker Stan Glazier’s house. At that time, the Glazier homestead was your average American three-bed, two-bath with a white picket fence along the front sidewalk.
Jake did not recall the exact address of the Glazier residence but figured he would recognize the dwelling upon driving past it. However, much to his amazement, the surrealistic scene which was strewn out before him made that assumption quite asinine.
Haystack Landing Road was now much less a nestled comfy community than an obvious reminder of previous conflict, ruin, and disorder. The three-bed, two-baths were still there, but many appeared to have been deserted some time ago. Backyard fences had been trampled down, windows smashed out, and doors forced in. Cars were wrecked and strewn along the street, a couple of the habitations showed signs of having been on fire, and the carcasses of once-family pets and even a couple human-shaped forms littered the sidewalks and yards.
Much like many other neighborhoods that were in its path, this one also appeared as if a herd or migration of cannibalistic corpses had swept through the area. They had left nothing but bad memories and destruction in their wake.
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