by E. A. Copen
Doc turned a full circle in a panic before his eyes settled on the heavy curtains lining the walls. “There!” he shouted and pointed. “Hide. I’ll keep them busy.”
There was no time to argue. Voices in the hallway told me that whoever had come to collect the bodies was right outside. I grabbed Ed and we pushed aside the curtains, sliding in behind them just in time to hear the doors flap open.
It was dark back there, darker than it had been in the rest of the room, and I couldn’t see anything, but I heard the heavy clink of boots and body armor moving down the ramp toward Doc.
“Doctor Ramis,” said a soft but familiar voice.
I slid to my right to stand in the tiny space where the curtains met so that I could see a sliver of what was going on outside. Doctor Han stepped onto flat ground, escorted on either side by more of those paramilitary goons. Their guns were pointed at the ground, but they stood ready to snap them up at a moment’s notice.
Doc glanced nervously back and forth between the goons. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” he said.
I couldn’t see clearly, but Han’s voice told me he was smiling. “No, we have not, but you know who I am just the same.”
One of Doc’s hands closed into a fist. “What’s a geneticist want here?”
“Now, now, Doctor. I realize the position you must be in. You feel threatened.”
“As well I should, given that you’ve brought guns into my clinic.” He gestured to the goons and then behind him. “And making me sign non-disclosure agreements concerning dead bodies that you’ve come to collect in the middle of the night. I think I have every right to be worried, and every right to examine what you and your goons are hiding in here.”
Han gave a lighthearted chuckle. “One can never be too careful. The world of supernatural medicine is a dangerous place, especially for curious humans.”
“I know something’s going on here. I won’t say anything, not as long as no one gets hurt.” Doc straightened and stood taller. “Primum non nocere, doctor. First, do no harm. There’s no need for violence here.”
“Is that so?” Han lifted his head and folded his hands behind his back.
I had to hand it to Doc. He stood his ground, despite the fact that he was probably quivering on the inside. Doc had always been a jumpy guy and Han scared the piss out of me. The fact that Doc didn’t immediately yelp at Han’s tone of voice spoke to his courage.
After a long moment, Doc stepped aside. “Collect what you came for and go.”
Han made a quick motion with his hand and half a dozen paramilitary goons filed forward. They worked like bees, efficiently and without verbal communication, three to a body. Two of them spread black body bags out on the floor while a third lifted the body and placed it inside before zipping the bags up. It was less than ten seconds before both bodies had been bagged and slung over someone’s shoulder as they headed for the emergency exits in the front. Four remained behind with Doctor Han.
“I trust you will keep your word, Doctor Ramis,” Han said. “We were never here. There were no bodies in your autopsy room today. You saw nothing. You know nothing.”
Doc narrowed his eyes. “I understand.”
“Good.” Han stepped up to Doc, who took a cautious step back. That didn’t stop Han from standing toe-to-toe with him. Han grabbed Doc by the shirt, but instead of striking him as I expected, Han unwrinkled Doc’s white coat and dusted off some unseen debris. “I’m so glad we could come to an understanding as professionals. However, I am afraid my employer left specific instruction.”
He stepped back and made another gesture. The four paramilitary guys closed on Doc while Han turned his back. I jerked out of view of the crack in the curtains as his eyes scanned the wall where Ed and I hid. There was the sickening sound of metal striking flesh and bone and a muffled cry from Doc. Ed shifted next to me until I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. His fingers closed into fists and, in the darkness behind the curtain, I watched his eyes turn a frightening shade of yellow as the beating continued.
It went on for a good minute or two before Han called his dogs off. “That’s enough,” he chirped in a pleased tone. “I think we have made our point.”
Heavy footsteps carried away toward the back exit along with the rustle of clothing and armor. The door squealed loudly as it opened and then closed. Ed and I waited until we heard the roar of several engines pulling away before we came out from behind the curtain.
Doc lay curled up on one side, his whole face red. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth while tears flowed from his eyes. Every breath was a pained whimper. By morning, he’d be black and blue from the chest up. I knelt next to him. “Don’t move, Doc. How bad is it?”
“I don’t think… anything is broken but my pride.” I helped him sit up. He turned his head and spat out blood and part of a tooth. “Scratch that. Bastards got a tooth.”
“What the hell was all that?” Ed asked, standing over us.
I turned my head and stared at the emergency exit. There were no answers, not yet. Two strange, maybe genetically modified BSI agents had been moved by the paramilitary group from the crime scene Reed disappeared from and into Doc’s clinic for holding. A few hours later, Han showed up to collect them. Han, who worked for Marcus.
Not Marcus, I realized. Fitz. That was the only connection I saw between BSI and Han. But what, if anything, did that have to do with Gideon Reed?
I turned back to Ed. “We’d better find out what’s on that hard drive, Ed. Pronto.”
“What about Doc?”
Doc waved us away. “I’ll be fine. And you two had better get gone in case they come back to check on me.”
“You sure you’ll be fine, Doc?” I asked, helping him to his feet. “I can get someone to watch the place.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to be any more trouble than I’ve already been. Besides, I’ve played my part. I told you everything I know. This is where I get off the crazy train.”
~
Ed and I left the clinic in a hurry. The night outside was once again silent but for the buzzing street light. Outside, I paused out on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street, fearing that they’d be back any minute to tie up loose ends. I was almost sure Han had known we were there. I had nothing but a gut feeling about it, but those had been right often enough I learned to trust my gut. Han was bad news, and if he knew we were there, he and his goons might be waiting anywhere to silence us before we could dig any deeper.
If Han and BSI were working together, and they were willing to kill to keep their secret—whatever it was—as they’d inferred, then there was nothing I could do to stop them. Nowhere was safe, not anymore.
Chapter Fifteen
The trailer Ed shared with Shauna and Daphne was on the other side of the rez, but it was only a short drive. On the way, we passed the church and I stole a glance over at the burnt-out remains of Reed’s house behind the church. In the darkness, the shape of it looked alive, as if the burnt and bent wood were a resting giant, waiting to be woken. I wondered if the cat had gotten out fine and if he’d found a place to sleep for the night. All kinds of things lived on the rez, things that might look at a cat and think of it as food. I swallowed and redirected my attention forward. Best not to think about the cat’s fate, then.
I parked the car next to the trailer. None of the lights were on in the house, but the pale blue light dancing across the closest two windows told me his two female roomies were probably watching TV.
“I don’t know what my program has recovered off the hard drive so far,” Ed said, “but you’re welcome to come in and see.”
The idea was tempting, even though my mind and body were both exhausted. Even partial information could be better than nothing at all. So far, I had no answers, nothing to go on and no leads to track them down. At best, what I could hope to work through legal angles was to try and pin a drug charge on Hector, but I didn’t have enough evidence to go in and pe
rform a search. No judge would sign off on searching a religious compound for drugs, not unless I had some kind of proof that they were manufacturing and distributing them. Collecting that evidence would take weeks, if not months. I needed to find Reed and figure out what was going on now.
I pursed my lips and blew out a breath, resting both hands on the steering wheel and watching the light in the windows. “I can stay a few minutes, I guess.”
“Great!” Ed unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open the door and bounded up the stairs, rushing inside before I could even get out of the seatbelt.
I rolled my eyes at his conspiracy theory enthusiasm and got out of the car.
Daphne and Shauna were curled up on the sofa as I suspected. Daphne wore a pink snuggie and stretched out over the sofa, her head resting on Shauna’s leg. Shauna was still in her work clothes, the gray jersey tee and sweats that with the weightlifting wolf emblem.
“Hey,” Shauna said as I came through the front door. “Beers are on the counter if you want one. Didn’t make it to the fridge.”
“No thanks,” I answered and glanced around the room. My eyes stopped on the salmon colored loveseat on my right and I had to fight not to cringe at the color.
“Never known anyone to want to deal with Ed when he’s like this sober, but that’s your call.” She jerked her chin toward the kitchen, past the salmon loveseat and the darkened hall beyond. “Ed’s room is that way. I’d be careful where you sit.”
I thanked her again and followed her directions down the short hall to the open door where Ed’s bedroom was.
He sat in a worn, leather swivel chair in front of a desk with three monitors set up in a panoramic view. The pale, electric blue light coming from those screens was the only light in the room. It cast shadows over empty bags of chips, overturned cans of energy drinks and soda. Clothes carpeted the floor while anime posters plastered the walls. Something crunched under my shoes when I took my first step inside and I cringed. Ed didn’t seem to notice.
“Whoever pulled your hard drive didn’t take very good care of it. I was worried it wasn’t going to work because of how beat up it was.”
“It was in a bit of a firefight,” I told Ed, coming to stand behind his chair.
“Uh-huh,” he answered absently as his fingers moved over the keyboard at lightning pace. Small, black windows with white text popped up on various different screens as he worked, each new one a layer over a desktop with another anime girl that was half robot.
I don’t pretend to know much about computers. I had no idea what the hell he was doing because, from my end, it looked like magick. Heck, maybe it was. I didn’t know how deep Ed’s skill with technomancy went. As I stood and watched him work, I considered the possibilities of such a talent. He could do a hell of a lot more than track people. With Ed’s talents, he could work out a way to use his powers for criminal things like remote hacking, disarming alarms, disabling security of all kinds. I shivered at the idea of Ed becoming some kind of hacker thief. No, not Ed. Ed would only use his powers for good, wouldn’t he? Besides, just how much trouble could a werewolf with a gaming and anime obsession get in?
A folder opened and then a subfolder before I could blink. The subfolder contained a list of files named after gibberish. “Looks like there are some spreadsheets and a couple of videos.”
“What about the videos? Those seem helpful.”
A blue-lined window opened containing a media player I wasn’t familiar with, but the window remained black. The computer made a sound and a grey box with a red X popped up center screen containing something technical. I didn’t need to understand the jargon to know what the red X meant. Error.
“Looks like some of the data is corrupted.” His voice sounded as if he were in physical pain.
I cursed and tightened my fingers on the back of his chair before asking. “Is there anything useful?”
The keyboard keys clicked loudly under Ed’s fingers. “Maybe, but that’s going to take some time. Let’s try another file.”
He clicked on another file and a spreadsheet opened. Ed and I both leaned in, squinting at the numbers and letters on the screen. “What am I looking at?” Ed asked.
I pointed to the first column. Every line all the way down the screen in that column was filled with a ten-digit combination of letters and numbers. “This could be an identifying code, sort of like a name. Sometimes, agencies use them in place of names for security reasons. I can call into any precinct or BSI station house in the nation and give them my code to identify myself. This reminds me of that.”
“So, each row is a person?” Ed scrolled down through screen after screen, making me dizzy. “There must be a thousand people in this document.”
“Stop scrolling a second so I can look.” He did and I glanced through the other columns. Most of it meant nothing to me, but it looked like several columns held different weights, measures, and dosages. “This looks like medical information. Scroll over.” He did and the text of the document changed colors in the last column, which either contained a bright red D or a blue A. There were notably fewer blue A’s.
I filed all the information away in the back of my head, knowing the document had to be important. Until I knew what all that information meant, however, it was useless to me.
“Do you think you can fix the video files, Ed? We need more information.”
Ed sighed and shrugged. “I’ll do what I can, but the guy who stole this probably knew more about it. I’d be asking him if he knew what he was looking for. At the very least, maybe he can tell you who wanted it and why.”
I pushed away from the chair and rubbed my forehead. “And maybe the crash scene isn’t guarded anymore.”
“If it was BSI hiding evidence, I doubt they left anything.” Ed swiveled the chair around and crossed his skinny arms. “Can they conceal magick stuff or do you think you can find something?”
I stared at the clothes littering his bedroom floor, chewing on my bottom lip. This was BSI, the federal government and my employer. I had no way of knowing everything they had up their sleeve. A good power washing of the site would disturb enough magickal energies that getting a good read on what happened there would be impossible. It would also wash away most of the physical evidence, or at least what little any fires might not have destroyed. Abe could have placed early warning runes there as well, which would notify him if anyone came snooping around. If I went to check it out, there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to do so without him knowing. Since I didn’t know whose side Abe was on or what he was doing, I couldn’t trust him.
But I was an officer of the law, dammit. It was my job to investigate accidents like that. If Abe wanted to stop me, I’d make him break a sweat doing it.
“I don’t know, Ed,” I answered after a long pause. “But I’m going to find out.”
I went to the door and stopped when Ed called, “Be careful out there, Judah. Two other BSI agents are dead and you don’t have impenetrable skin.”
“Neither do you,” I said, putting my hand on the doorknob and turning around. “At the first sign of trouble, you fry that hard drive, Ed. I’ve got a feeling it’ll be better to destroy it than to get caught with it.”
Ed turned his chair around. I waited until I heard his fingers moving across the keys again to leave.
~
I sat at a crossroads. Turning left would take me to Eden and to the hospital to check on Creven. He was a good friend who had gone through hell with me earlier. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t even have the hard drive. It would have been lost in the fire and I’d still be clueless.
To the right lay Four Corners Concho and an unexplored crime scene. Abe and his flunkies might have sterilized the scene and removed any evidence, but they might have missed something. Even the smallest clue might help me pick up Reed’s trail again and I needed to find him before he hurt someone else. Going there meant waiting to check in on Creven. It meant putting the case before a friend, but if I went to t
he hospital first, I’d lose valuable time. Any metaphysical evidence at the crime scene was fading with every passing second and could be gone by the time I made it back.
Either way I turned, I gave something up. It didn’t seem like much of a choice, but that’s all life really is, a series of choices and consequences. It’s living with the consequences that’s tough.
Creven wasn’t in any danger of dying, and so the visit seemed less urgent. Reed was still out there, still dangerous.
I turned right and rationalized the decision by saying it made more sense in the long term. I was saving lives going right.
The barricade was gone, but I slowed at the spot where the roadblock had been, glancing around. No sign remained other than a little freshly overturned dirt to the side of the road. I could have gotten out of the car there to poke around, but the real interesting stuff would be down the road at the station itself, so I eased on the gas.
A quarter mile down the road from where the roadblock had been sat the dead husk of an old gas station. The pumps had long ago been removed and the building vandalized. Jagged bits of broken glass marked the windows and spray-painted graffiti in both Spanish and English painted the walls. Chipping blue paint and sandstone served as the canvas for the graffiti.
I pulled the car up under the awning and next to where the pumps would have been. The scene was quiet with no signs anyone was still there. There were also no signs an ambulance had crashed there earlier in the day, but I’d need a closer look. I left the car running, headlights on, when I exited. My shoes scraped over bare concrete. Not even rocks or sand remained. I knelt and squinted at a patch of cracked concrete in the headlights. Most of the rest of the parking area was covered in a fine, reddish dust commonly found in the Texas desert. This circular patch, about ten feet in diameter, was a shade of bone white. It gave off the slight burning chemical scent of bleach or something resembling it.
Dammit, I thought, leaning back. They’d scrubbed the crime scene. Not only would that remove all the physical evidence, but it would destroy any real link to an impression that might have been left. Still, I had to try. If there was even one drop of blood left at the site, one hair they’d missed, I might be able to tap into the smallest of residual energies and find out something.