In a matter of minutes, the SoulChasers were clothed and sitting around a large table, eating chunks of bread and cheese.
Standing out of the way, Steele watched the team as they talked softly together. He had regained his composure and now had time to watch and listen. The closest person to him was their leader, who made a point of letting them eat and get use to their host’s bodies.
“Is this everyone?” he asked. “I’ve never had the exact number of hosts to ‘Chasers before.”
“No,” Kathryn said. “I’ve got six more at another host vault about eight hours ride from here.” She paused and looked sideways at him. “What matter of transportation do you use? I noticed you have computers, so I can assume it’s not horseback?”
This brought a smile to Steele’s face. “No, ma’am. We’ve got a wide assortment of motor vehicles from individual cycles to aircraft that fly faster than the speed of sound. How far do you need to go?” The satellite trackers embedded in the skin behind each body’s right ear gave him not only ongoing vital statistics for each host, but precise global positioning, so distance wasn’t an issue when it came time to recover them.
Kathryn caught the attention of a man named Bishop. He paused with a piece of cheese almost to his mouth, then put it down and wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “Sorry, what was the question?”
“Our destination?” Kathryn said.
“Ah, that would be someplace in the northwest called Shadow Valley,” he said. “I’m not entirely sure how far, but from what I gathered, it would be almost a full day and night’s ride.”
Ben Steele froze at the name of the town. His memory spooled back to the duo that had come through the day before.
“What is it?” Kathryn asked, noticing his distraction.
“I had two ‘Chasers head for that same location a few days ago.” He walked over to the computer table and woke the machine up. On the wall at the closest end of the table, a large plasma screen lit up. With deft strokes, he pulled up an internet mapping system and a few moments later, a detailed satellite image of the region lit the screen. A blue line from Steele’s house squiggled around to the northwest, ending at a destination close to the ocean. He looked from the screen to Kathryn. “That’s your route. There must be something serious going on there.”
Her eyes glued to the screen, Kathryn said, “You have no idea.”
Sensing that he wouldn’t get anything more than that, Steele crossed over to the freestanding floor safe. He dialed the combination and the safe lock clicked open. Inside, he stored an arsenal of assorted firearms from rifles to Derringer pistols. On the top shelf were stacks of hundred-dollar bills, banded in groups of ten thousand dollars. He pulled out two stacks and handed them to Kathryn, whom he had sensed walk up behind him.
“This looks like a lot of currency,” she said, holding it up to inspect.
Ben shrugged. “It’s only money. And there’s plenty more where that came from, so take what you need. I’m guessing that you’ll need individual transportation. Mass transit won’t work.”
“You’re right,” she said, handing the cash to Dillan, her resources specialist. Then she walked over to the large screen and inspected the map. “We’re going to deviate there,” she explained, pointing to a spot about half-way along the route. “There’s three Keepers converging on that area. We’re going to need their SoulStars for this.”
Steele closed up the safe, handing Dillan two more stacks of bills. “I don’t envy the hailstorm you’re walking into.”
From the table, Bishop stretched and cracked his knuckles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he agreed.
Chapter 35
“SoulStar In Hand”
Kathryn slowed the motorcycle to a rumbling stop at the corner of 5th and Lexington. Ahead lay the main road leading into the heart of town. To the right and left, suburbs. Trees lined both sides of the road, creating a peaceful, spotted patchwork along the asphalt. Above, the few clouds that dotted the blue noon sky billowed a puffy whiteness like spun cotton.
Behind her sat Bishop, unusually quiet as they waited for the short train of vehicles to stop behind them. Then he chimed in with, “I’ve dug SoulStars from the desert sand, hiked some of the tallest peaks to find them, even had to dive to the bottom of a flooded town that had been turned into a lake. But I’ve never had to retrieve one from a soccer mom in suburbia.”
Kathryn nudged him with her shoulder, but couldn’t help but crack a smile.
The creak and thunk of a pickup truck door preceded Dillon walking up beside them.
“How close are we?” he asked, sparing a glance up and down the street.
Kathryn shrugged off the shotgun slung across her back and held it out to Bishop. He scowled and made a point of slowly climbing off the back of the motorcycle, then took the firearm.
“You know I don’t like you going into situations without proper recon,” Bishop said, the tone in his voice severe, “or backup.”
The smile on her face turned ironic and she said, “Come on, it’s soccer mom suburbia? What could happen?”
Before Bishop or Dillon could reply, Kathryn revved the loud engine, then slowly pulled away from them, turning right and heading up the street.
Bishop looked over at Dillon, who shrugged.
The motorcycle churned beneath her as Kathryn opened herself to the sensation tugging at her. The familiar pull of the SoulStar felt so strong, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it was moving her along more than the powerful motorcycle.
The closer she grew, the more powerful the sensation of the close proximity of the relic.
Kathryn almost gasped as the sensation inside her spiked, then it began to lessen. She immediately slowed the bike and turned it around, pulling to a stop in front of a white, two story home, complete with shade trees in the yard, a green, well-manicured lawn, and a late-model mini-van parked in the drive.
The SoulChaser looked up at the pale blue and white-trimmed house, as the motorcycle growled into silence. Bishop was right, this was a first.
Climbing off the bike, Kathryn took a minute to take stock of her appearance. She raked her wild hair back the best she could, then checked the black leather riding jacket to make sure she didn’t smell bad. With a shrug, she headed up to the front door.
The cute house had three steps up to a covered porch that contained a porch swing and two wicker chairs, separated by a wicker table sporting a small pot of greenery. She stepped up to the solid oak front door and knocked.
After a few moments of silence, the white lace curtain on the other side of the narrow window that ran up the right-hand side of the doorway fluttered and a small, cherubic face peered at her.
Trying to look as non-threatening as possible, Kathryn knelt down to the little girl’s level and asked, “Hi, my name is Kathryn. Is your mommy or daddy home?”
The little girl nodded, her ebony bangs bobbing lightly against her forehead.
Before Kathryn could say more, she glimpsed movement in the entry way behind the little girl, then the doorknob rattled. She stood as the door opened and a woman that looked like a grown up version of the little girl, stood in the gap. From the expression on the woman’s face, Kathryn could tell she wasn’t happy.
“Hi,” Kathryn began, “I’m--”
“I know who you are,” the girl’s mother interrupted.
Trying not to let the woman’s attitude get under her skin, Kathryn said, “Then you know why I’m here, Keeper.”
“I do,” came the quick reply.
A long pause passed between them. Kathryn preferred to let the girl’s mother lead.
Eventually, the woman said, “Wait here,” and closed the door.
With her sharpened hearing, Kathryn heard the little girl ask, “What does the pretty lady want, Mom?”
“Nothin
g, Peanut,” came her mother’s reply. “Come away from the door and don’t talk to her. She’s dangerous.”
“She doesn’t look dangerous.”
From the mouths of babes? Kathryn wondered. She didn’t consider herself dangerous. She had two children of her own, which she saw every chance she got. If she thought about it, she imagined that other people could see her militant Afterlife style as dangerous, but it hadn’t seemed that way to her.
Nearly a minute passed before the door opened again and the woman returned. In her hands, she held a wooden box about six inches on a side and three inches deep. The finish was pitted and scratched, like it had spent many long years in the bottom of someone’s foot locker.
“Here,” the Keeper said curtly and held out the box.
Kathryn took the box and immediately slipped open the small gold clasp holding it shut. When she lifted the lid, the inside reflected dark red velvet. In the center of the box, nestled among the luxurious fabric, rested a SoulStar. Kathryn couldn’t resist softly running her fingertips along the warm, gold finish. The carved Heraldic runes flashed, responding to the SoulChaser’s touch. With a smile, she closed the box and looked at the woman in the doorway, with her soccer mom clothes and little girl peeking out from between her knees.
“Thank you.”
“You have it. Now go,” the woman said, backing into the shadow of the house’s entry way. “And never come back.” With that, she closed the door.
The last thing Kathryn saw before the heavy wood slab clicked shut was the curious look on the little girl’s face.
Without hesitation, the SoulChaser hurried down to the motorcycle and carefully placed the box in one of her saddle bags. Then she climbed on the motorcycle and fired it up.
With one last glance at the pale blue house with white trim, the SoulChaser smiled and headed out.
Chapter 36
“Corpses On the Run”
Detective Taylor pushed open the door to the morgue and stepped out into the grey morning. Due to the heavy storms over the last several days, he didn’t find the gloom outside any more comforting than the mess in the building behind him. He shook his head and wondered once again why he had given up smoking. Motion behind him clued him in to his partner joining him on the entrance ramp.
“It’s a damn mess in there,” Mendez said.
Taylor doubted Mendez meant just the blood. The officers on location didn’t seem to know how to contain a crime scene and it had taken the efforts of both detectives to rally the officers and get them working as a team.
Before Taylor could speak, a black and chrome sports car pulled into a parking space beside their car. The car’s doors opened. Watching Nick James and Mr. Alexander extricate themselves from the small car would have been humorous in lighter circumstances.
Nick closed his door, then ran his hand along the chrome edge where the windshield met the black hardtop. He bent over it to get a better look, then turned and joined Alexander crossing over to the detectives.
“Got a leak from the windshield?” Mendez asked. He considered himself a bit of a sports car buff, Taylor knew.
Nick sighed and replied, “Not sure. Seems like I’m getting rain water coming in, but I’m not sure where. I’d hate to have to take it back to the manufacturer.”
Mendez craned his neck past Alexander to the car. “Cobra replica?”
“Yep, one of the best in the business,” was Nick’s reply.
With a nod, Mendez said, “They should be able to fix any leaks for you, then.”
“When I brought it here, I had no idea it’d be monsoon season,” Nick grumbled, then looked up at Taylor. “What’s up?”
“We’ve had a bit of a setback with the murder investigation,” Taylor replied. “Seems that they’ve gone missing.”
Eyebrows raised in surprise, Nick asked, “Someone stole six corpses?”
Taylor shook his head.
“Not only the corpses,” Mendez answered. “The coroner and her assistants are gone, too. Thirteen, in all.”
Nick blinked several times in disbelief. Then he looked up at Alexander beside him. “Did I hear right? That the coroner and her assistants wandered off with six dead bodies?”
Before Alexander could reply, Taylor interjected, “It’s hard to tell if they stole the bodies, or were killed and hauled off themselves. Based on the amount of blood, I’m thinking the latter is more likely.”
Nick shook his head and said, “This I gotta see.”
Mendez opened the morgue doors and the four men entered.
The first thing Taylor noticed was the lack of temperature change inside. Even passing through the second set of doors, presumably there to help regulate the cooler indoor temperature as people came and went, didn’t seem to indicate any controlled environment. He hadn’t realized it was that chilly outside.
“Well, this isn’t good,” Nick said to the room as they made their way into the main area of the morgue. Thick blood spatter on the walls, on the floor, across the ceiling....
“You’ve got a degree in forensics. What do you think?” Taylor asked as Nick walked with care around the room. He managed to perimeter the examination tables and glance at the refrigeration nooks without getting any crimson on him. Then he stepped into the main part of the exam room, taking particular interest in the large, unusual smears of pooled blood. “I was noticing those, too.”
Nick motioned to the large patches where the blood seemed like it had been swept across the white tiles. “This looks like a body was dragged,” he said, then pivoted to look across the floor. “Possibly a couple more over there. How about up in the admin offices?”
“More of the same,” Mendez replied.
Nodding, Nick took delicate care as he made his way back to them. He reached the trio at the same time one of the patrol officers from outside arrived.
“Sir, the tech guys got the security feed working,” the officer said. He motioned for them to follow.
“This should be revealing,” Alexander said as the five men made their way up to the administrative offices.
Nick blanched a bit as they passed through a beige hallway that had been painted in crimson sigils and red runes. Above and on each wall, they made the short walk feel dark and surreal.
The hall ended at a single door into a small room full of surveillance and security equipment. A bank of black-and-white monitors took up a wall to their right, along with a desk, computer system and three chairs. On the wall opposite the door, three banks of filing cabinets and a network computer server ate up the space and to their left was a floor-standing vault safe and a wide set of shelves full of digital video tapes.
Two men sat in front of the computer, one in an officer’s uniform and the other in a scholarly tweed jacket, grey turtle-neck sweater and khaki slacks. He glanced up, as did the officer, as the five men entered the already-crowded room.
“So, what have you got?” Taylor asked right off.
“Well, we’ve managed to salvage some of the video footage from throughout the facility, but it wasn’t easy. The entire system seems like it was hit by a massive electrical surge,” the tweed man said.
“What, like an EMP?” asked Nick.
The tweed man scowled and turned back to the computer. “Sort of, but it didn’t trip any of the surge protectors. Whatever it was seemed to emanate from inside the facility. And even that isn’t entirely accurate, since the local surge protectors on each individual system are still intact. The long and short of it is that it did a number on the surveillance files, but we’ve manage to cobble some of them back together and we’re ready to play them for you,” he said.
Taylor nodded. “Let ‘em spin.”
The large central screen lit up with white snow, which then disappeared, replaced by a bright green screen. The image turned fuzz
y for a moment, then coalesced into a view of the examination room. The coroner and two assistants were gathered around the central exam table, documenting the carvings in the dead man’s torso. The screen fuzzed a little and at the same time the coroner looked up in surprise. Then the screen went green again for a second. When it cleared up again, the sedate exam room was a scene of confusion and chaos. Four of the cadaver drawers were open and now empty and all six corpses, dressed in simple examination gowns, acted very alive.
“What the hell?” Taylor muttered, leaning closer to the screen.
Nick didn’t have to lean closer to see all he needed to see. He watched in silence as the reanimated dead slaughtered the coroner and his assistants, setting the bodies aside, only to have them rise up again moments later and join in the revelry. One thing that did stand out among the carnage was when the brunette woman, who the rest seemed to defer to, noticed one of the assistants running for the exit, toward the camera. The woman threw out her hand and Nick saw the exit doors slam closed on their own.
“Did you see that?” Mendez asked Taylor.
The senior partner nodded, not taking his eyes from the display.
A few seconds later, the image stopped, frozen on a disturbing vignette of blood and slaughter.
Taylor turned away, to find Nick’s haunted eyes on him.
“What do you think?” Taylor repeated his question. “How do you explain what we just saw?”
Nick locked gazes with Taylor. “I think we’ve got a repeat of Nightmare Manor on our hands,” he said, his voice thick with surety.
Disgusted, Detective Mendez growled, “I knew this was a bad idea...”
Ignoring him, Nick asked, “Where’s your Crime Lab people?”
“We only have one investigator that pulls Crime Lab duty,” Taylor replied, “and he was here with the Coroner.”
Nick scowled. “Well, that complicates things even further. I’m sorry.”
Taylor turned to the officer sitting at the computer. “Burn everything you have to disk and get it over to the Crime Lab. See if the techs can salvage any more of the footage.”
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