Subject 12

by S. W. Douglas

  "I'm sorry," he said, back-stepping and looking around nervously. "I really don't remember."

  I stepped closer. He had backed up against the wall. This wasn't the Redgrave I remembered. Either something had happened or it was an act. I was betting on act.

  "Think, Jack." I grabbed him and lifted him into the air. "Draven Kinsey. Alpha Zulu. Remember anything now?"

  "You work for Kinsey? I told that fuck I wasn't going to work for him anymore and I meant it!" The fear in his voice was very real. His heart was racing and his breath was coming in short gasps. I could see the truth on his face. If he hadn't just peed I'd have bet his shorts would have been quite wet by then.

  I dropped him. "I don't work for Kinsey anymore."

  He tried to straighten his shirt but his hands were trembling too badly to do much.

  "How long have you been out?" I asked, taking a step back to decrease the perceived threat.

  "Eighteen months. That's when I got out of the hospital." His breathing was slowing but his hands still seemed incapable of doing much. "The last time I worked for Kinsey was the last time I worked." He bent his neck to the left slowly and painfully, judging by the grimace on his face. He straightened the fingers on his right hand with his left, and pulled his hair back from his ear. I could see why he'd grown it so long.

  A long, ugly scar ran most of the length of his head behind his ear. It had the telltales of skin grafts and the obvious footprints of an overmatched plastic surgeon. The shape, though, looked eerily familiar.

  "I got hit by a brainsucker. I have no memories of anything from more than three years ago and I'm told it's a miracle I'm still alive." He let the hair flop back and he straightened his neck with an obvious look of relief. "Kinsey had hired me to take out a nest of zombies but had neglected to tell me that I was looking at four suckers instead of the usual two. I managed to kill the one who started to feed on me, but how I did it is still kinda hazy." He shuddered. "I still got the skills, you know? But I can't use 'em. I tried a few times, and while what I did worked, I got a headache and I couldn't think and... I didn't want to."

  I nodded. Traumatic brain injuries were tricky things. I'd seen some of the guys I worked with take some blasts that only seemed to knock them off their feet, but after the mission was over... They were never the same again.

  "So what are you doing here? Vacation?" I was hoping nobody would come in and interrupt us.

  "No. I bought a townhouse here. I'm a little over an hour away from my doctor in Syracuse and I didn't want to be too far away in case there was a problem." His hands had stopped shaking enough so he finished straightening his shirt. "Why'd you grab me, anyway?"

  "Last I knew you were an Alpha Zulu freelancer and I wanted to make sure you weren't here to nail me. I didn't exactly leave on the best of terms."

  He snorted. "Neither did I. I woke up in their goddamn enclave in Syracuse with no idea of what was going on and it took them a month to transfer me to the frigging hospital."

  Syracuse. Okay, I was in New York. Syracuse was a little less than halfway down the state from Canton, but as long as I could find Route 81 I could find my way there. Good to know.

  "You ever have any contact with Alpha Zulu or Kinsey anymore?"

  "Not since I sent them my first medical bill with a note that they pay or else. Every once in a while I need them to sign some paperwork, but that's it." He coughed. "Is that all? I was hoping to catch the first showing of that stupid-looking comedy about the teenagers getting stoned."

  I believed him. He wasn't going to go running home to Kinsey and report that he saw me, or at even give them my description when he reported, but the question then became what if I was wrong? I couldn't risk having another snatch team come down on my head while I was poking around the Guildhall.

  A wicked idea took hold. I had a Guild ID giving me authority. Why not use it? A city the size of Watertown should have a decent-sized hall, shouldn't it? I could feel the smile creeping across my face.

  "I'm afraid not, Jack." I slowly pulled the ID from my pocket and let him look at it.

  "You're working for the Guild?" He sounded very surprised. I had to admit, I probably would be in his position, too.

  "Yes, I am. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me," I said, gently taking his arm.

  His hands had started to shake again.

  Redgrave had a car --- a sensible, green, compact station wagon with a few dents and dings and a manual transmission.

  "Is there a problem?" Redgrave asked, glancing over his shoulder and looking nervous.

  "I can't drive stick."

  "And you don't trust me to drive?"

  I nodded. He'd parked under a burnt-out light and a quick look around confirmed that nobody was in sight. "You're too nervous and your body doesn't like adrenaline anymore."

  "So what do you suggest?"

  I grabbed his arm. "Just hold on."

  In retrospect I should have warned him. To suddenly be yanked into the air like that must have been terrifying, but he bore up surprisingly well.

  "Oh, shit!"

  I generated support for him easily and was glad for the gentle breeze because I was pretty sick of smelling ozone every time I did something. It didn't take long for him to relax.

  "This is actually pretty cool." He looked around as we hovered some distance above the burnt-out light. "It's a little cold up here, though."

  I hadn't noticed. I had forgotten to extend the bubble around him. Come to think of it, this was the first time I'd taken anyone flying with me, so some minor mistakes were to be expected. I'd given him something to stand on, at least.

  "Where's the local Guildhall? I've never been to this city before." I looked towards the city and grimaced. It was big enough finding the place might prove difficult if Redgrave didn't know.

  "It's just off Coffeen Street. They built it right next to the college." He shrugged, which I only saw because I was looking directly at him. "At least that's what they tell me. I haven't driven out there and I've had no need to call on them."

  "Alright. Where the hell is that?" I looked around. "Oh, never mind. Just point." He pointed and I took off in that direction at a moderate speed, Redgrave in tow. "Shout when we get there."

  "We can look after him, but unless you are putting him under arrest we can't keep him here against his will."

  The local Guildmaster, seemingly totally unconcerned about the murder of his compatriots, was being a total dick.

  "You saw my card. You even ran it through your goddamn computer to make sure it was real. You read the instructions. 'Total cooperation, even above and beyond usual duties, under penalty of expulsion from the Guild.' Am I right?" I was getting close to losing my temper.

  "Total cooperation doesn't include unlawful imprisonment." He sipped his coffee mug even though I was sure it was either empty or had nothing but water in it. I'd been there for over an hour and I hadn't smelled coffee once or seen him refill it.

  If I hadn't known better I'd swear this prick's job description would read "Must transport empty coffee mug and obstruct everyone who looks like they're doing real work." at some point on the paper. I'd already had to swallow the urge to punch him at least three times.

  "Total cooperation means you do what I tell you to do." I forced my hand to relax from the fist it'd curled into. "I'm a sanctioned Guild Investigator, for pity's sake."

  He smiled a shark-like grin. "I don't care what you are, sanctioned or otherwise. You want my help you have to do something in return."

  That was the proverbial straw. I felt my mouth go dry and my blood go cold.

  "What did you say your name was?"

  "Excuse me? I fail to see what bearing this has on our present situation."

  "Your name. What is it?"

  "Firebug."

  "Firebug. I won't forget it. May I assume your abilities have something to do with elemental fire?"

  "Yes. I can control its shape, intensity, even put it out if I wish. I can
not start it, however. I have a suit for that." He sipped another imaginary mouthful of the contents of his mug. Inability to start fire was quite common among pyros. I always thought it was nature's way of keeping them under a little control.

  "And what was your composite score?" My voice was all honey and flowers but my heart was in a dark place.

  "I scored a sixty-two. My defensive abilities are quite high." The note of pride wasn't lost on me.

  "Is that while wearing your suit or not?"

  "Without my suit. Really, what bearing does this have on your investigation?" He sounded annoyed.

  "Oh, it doesn't." I slapped the mug out of his hand so hard it smashed against the wall. It was, as expected, quite empty.

  "What the hell?!" His surprise had frozen him in place. It didn't matter. Even if he'd moved I'd have jacked his pompous ass.

  I lifted him by his shirt with one hand.

  "My composite was about ninety. Now, I have carte blanche to do as I see fit," I lied smoothly, "including, but not limited to, removing obstinate pricks like you who are too big for their goddamn britches. Can you fly? I can. Want to see the city from cloud level? I'm sure I can arrange both it and your return trip. That one might be a hell of a lot faster than you'd like, though, and I doubt you'd appreciate the landing."

  "Shit! Chill! Just chill, okay? Jesus, man!" He squirmed like a worm on a hook but at least he didn't really fight. He'd probably be a little less cooperative with a broken arm. Or worse. I wasn't feeling very charitable and I didn't want to try explain his blood all over my shirt to whomever might ask about it.

  "I'll chill when you agree to do as I asked. It's protective-fucking-custody, you sub-moronic shitpile." I made a note to tell Jackhammer or Venom to start a full-scale investigation into this waste of space as soon as I could get free. He had to have a list of abuses the length of my arm if he was acting like this to authority, and he'd pissed me off enough I wasn't going to leave him alone. He was also in my way. That gave me an idea. "Now, I'm going to look the other way long enough to get my job done, but I'm going to start an investigation into your little kingdom here as soon as I'm finished. Whatever you can sweep under the carpet is yours, but if so much as a hair on Redgrave's head is out of place when I get back I'm going to rip your large intestine out and stitch the business end to your mouth after feeding you enough laxative to make an elephant have a bowel movement from hell. Do you understand me or do I need to draw you a fucking picture?"

  "Y-yessir." He stopped squirming. "What else do you need?"

  "From you? Not a goddamn thing right now." I dropped him to the floor. He had enough sense to bend at the knees to absorb some of the shock, though he did stumble. "Just keep him safe till I get back and make sure he's comfortable."

  "As you say," he replied. A cold look of calculation settled around his eyes. "We'll keep him safe."

  "Good." I stared into the hatred in his eyes and felt the threat. I smiled, returning the hatred with interest. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

  I was dialing Jackhammer's compound before I was even airborne.

  Guild Intelligence File 77-51-83S-2

  Submitted to Guild Intelligence on October 5. Accepted pending peer review. Rejected October 8.

  Re-submitted to Guild Intelligence October 22 with priority markings. Rejected.

  Re-submitted to Guild Intelligence November 1 with J1 and S1 markings. Accepted. Archived.

  Prioritized intelligence review begun on December 13. Classified Eyes-Only December 15 due to inclusion in Guild Intelligence File 92-45-16B-1A.

  Partial transcription of audio portion follows:

  Subject 1: "Are you sure this is a good [garbled] idea? I don't want those [expletive deleted] jerks up my [expletive deleted]."

  Subject 2: "It's what the big man wants and what he wants he gets. That's why we have these things, you know, jobs? We do what he wants, when he wants, and we get paid."

  Subject 1: "I'm gonna ask for a [expletive deleted] pay raise if we have to [garbled for several seconds]. That alright with you?"

  Subject 2: "I'm sure the old man has a plan. And watch that language, you don't want him hearing that."

  Subject 3: "What I don't get is why it's such a small frigging town. If the kay-man wants to send those self-righteous [indistinct] a message, why doesn't he send us to somewhere bigger?"

  Subject 2: "'Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.'"

  Subject 1: "[expletive deleted] that noise. I signed up here to get away from that [expletive deleted]. I got tired of the mushroom treatment when I was in the army."

  Subject 3: "Mushroom treatment?"

  Subject 1: "Kept in the dark and fed horse [garbled]."

  [Recording was badly garbled for just short of one minute at this point. When it cleared subjects 1 and 2 had left the room and another subject had entered.]

  Subject 3: "Sir, I object to your decision to command this mission yourself."

  Subject 4: "Objection noted and dismissed. You're a soldier, not a [expletive deleted] policy maker. If I want to spray-paint a [expletive deleted] sign saying 'Kinsey was here, bitches!' on their front door I'll do just that. Your mission is to do what I say and keep me alive, nothing more."

  Subject 3: "Yes sir!"

  Subject 4 (Kinsey?): "Now then, Sergeant, you're in tactical command. Whatever you want, just request it in writing and I'll make sure you get it. If I may offer a suggestion, though, go light on the explosive ordinance. I want to send a message, not declare war on these sanctimonious bastards. [indistinct] team for the job, right?"

  Subject 3: "Yes sir!"

  Chapter 4

  Interestingly enough, the Guildhall in Canton (by the time I'd found the blasted village) was bigger than the building in Watertown even though it had half the staff. It was also lit with floodlights that, judging by the rust-staining on the concrete walls, had been installed for years. Funny that such accoutrements were absent from the Watertown installation.

  In fact, this place looked more like a prison or a military base; all it was missing was the razor wire. The sign out front said "Heroes' Guild Hall 212" though, so I knew I was in the right place. The police had cordoned the building off with that annoying yellow and black tape and had set up a perimeter. Nobody was inside, which was good. They'd been told to wait for me and it looked like they'd listened.

  I landed with a flourish, encouraging all the dust around me to fly into the air, just to make an impression. The more the flash the less they would see, and the louder the bang the less they'd remember.

  The cops were on edge, as they had every right to be. They'd been waiting to go investigate for at least twelve hours by then and they were more than a little antsy. That wasn't my problem, though. I hadn't made them sign up for the job and I had broken the goddamn sound barrier just to get there.

  I picked one with sergeant stripes who was pacing in front of the entrance and approached him. I didn't bother to fake a smile since I had a hunch it'd be lost on this brute. He had a heavy beard that he'd obviously shaved when he got up but needed to be attacked again and a single eyebrow that extended from hairline to hairline. The flashing lights from the cruisers were annoying but I tried to ignore them.

  "Well, sergeant, I'm here. Here's my ID, check it if you want, but don't give me any shit about how long it took me to get here. I flew in from the other side of Alberta, made landfall in Watertown, and then got some really crappy directions on how to get here from there. In the past week I've been gassed, poisoned, attacked, doped, harassed, insulted, and I think I swallowed a bug about five minutes ago. I'm here to do my job so you can do yours, so the sooner I get in there and look around the sooner you can do the same. As such, let's make a deal. You give me twenty minutes in there alone and then you can come in with your sprays, kits, dusts, magnifying glasses, junior detective decoder rings, magic wands, microscopes, and a fucking flamethrower for all I care. I know you're tired, I'm tired too, so let's just get this ov
er with, alright?" I handed him my ID and waited for him to say or do anything.

  He gave it a good looking over, read some of the information printed on the back, wiped his nose, and handed it back to me.

  "Sure thing, chief. This is your party as of right now." He stuck his thumb and forefinger together and then into his mouth, whistled shrilly and incredibly loudly, and waved his free hand over his head. "Alright, boys and girls. We're leaving this investigation to this guy as of now. One of us will stay behind and when he's done he'll be kind enough to let us know so we can clean up his mess." He nodded at me. "Try not to step on anything too important. That's a good boy."

  When he tried to push past me I grabbed his arm and squeezed hard enough to bruise. He winced but he got the hint.

  "Sergeant, I'm going to look through here as professionally and quickly as possible. I shouldn't be long at all. In the meantime I'd appreciate your cooperation, though it's not essential. If you choose to continue to act like a complete douche I'm going to treat you like one. That means when I'm done with you I'll be placing you in that trash can across the road, possibly in small pieces, and something will be dripping. The only thing that'll be missing is the smell of vinegar."

  "Are you threatening an officer of the law?" His stern tone didn't match his body language. "Because that sounded an awful lot like a death threat."

  I'd have been more intimidated if his voice hadn't cracked at the end. "I'm not threatening anyone, sergeant. I'm giving fair warning that anyone who interferes with my job will be met with a suitable response. My job is to investigate, report to the guys who gave me the job, and then turn it over to local authorities. You being that authority, I'd rather not have to turn it over to you after showing you what the contents of your stomach looks like after it's been forced out your nose." I leaned in closer so I could whisper in his ear. "And don't even think of telling these people to shoot at me. There's been enough death here today without my adding all these names to the list and someone trying to explain on national TV why police officers fired on an authorized Guild Investigator. A guild investigator looking into six murders that happened on your watch."