by Sarah Makela
A few minutes of prodding later, Reeves removed clumps of synthetic skin that the murderer had injected into the opened veins deep inside, essentially stopping the bleeding in the body, as well as a few pieces of odd gray matter. Squeezing a little on the mass made the stored blood flow freely from it.
Feeling nauseated, Hannah took a few steps back, fighting the sudden onslaught of queasiness. She turned to leave and accidentally bumped Ian into the table.
Ian turned as Hannah knocked him against the stretcher. Reaching out, he gripped the body to prevent himself from falling. An odd sense of displacement swirled within him.
A flicker of his power sought a network of tiny conducting fibers that lay underneath the skin of the body. A shudder ran through him as more and more of his power coursed through his body and, having found an outlet, entered the remains of Thomas Ingrid.
He struggled to clasp his power and draw it back in. His power pulled slightly away, but suddenly, something else was yanking at his power, pulling it into the corpse with fervor. Dizziness nearly toppled him, and he tugged on his power as much as he could, only to find the bond between them growing stronger despite his struggle to disconnect.
“Ian, are you okay?” Hannah asked, and shook his shoulders.
Unable to do anything more than retreat from the body, he pointed to Leon. “Get fire axe.” Ian lost his footing and fell to the ground.
Feeling his power distantly, Ian suddenly knew why the body had been drained of blood. Not only was it a way to decrease the will of the victims, but also to hide something else. Now, what remained of the substance that had floated freely in the blood drank his power and latched to the nerves of the body. The center of the power moved to his limbic system and stretched to cover the motor center of the brain. A small spark seemed to ignite inside the body, and the hand twitched again, this time with intent.
Reeves kicked the stretcher toward the corner, dropping the makeshift zombie off and to the floor. What had begun as a slow rise, changed into frantic action as the thing drank more of Ian’s power. Left weak, he watched what had been a recently dead body become something of a twisted form of a man. Inside the head of the walking corpse, he felt his power and focused. He was unable to feel anything distantly human remaining inside the skull, but more of a fight-or-flight reflex of the limbic system, the oldest part of the brain, that on some level was able to siphon his power and become, if only for a moment, alive.
It rose with strength and gave an ululating cry as it ran toward Reeves.
Hannah took a few steps closer to Ian.
Knowing if he didn’t do something soon, the remains of Ingrid would tear them apart, he did something only he knew how. He woke up the additional processors stored in his brain and reached out to the zombie, feeling an odd, yet distantly familiar sensation of connection and power.
While normally able to connect directly, now he felt like he’d stuck his hand into the dark, unsure of what was happening inside the being. Whatever Ian had done made the zombie stop and stare at him intently.
Reeves got all the chance he needed as he kicked the zombie’s kneecaps, dropping it flat against the white ceramic floor of the room. Still it tried to raise higher, a renewed glint in its eyes of pure animalistic rage as it prepared to pounce, not on the medical examiner who had kicked it, but on the source of its power, Ian.
Behind him, Ian saw a shadow move closer as the zombie pounced across the air. He heard a sickening thud and felt a release of power as if a weight had lifted from his chest. Before his eyes closed, he saw Leon hacking the thing again and again with a fire axe, destroying the remains of the nerves and ending its short unlife.
With all of his energy spent, the world darkened. The sweet, comforting darkness lasted what seemed just a few moments, before he felt himself being shaken.
Grumbling, he opened his eyes to look up at Hannah. Worry filled her eyes as she jerked on his shoulder, trying to get him to focus.
“I don’t know what happened. Hang in there, Ian.” Her warm lips pressed against his forehead.
Reeves stared down at him, and Leon was on his other side with his fingers pressed against Ian’s wrist as he stared at his watch.
On the floor lay a fire axe, their notes and a nearly severed head that still had a twisted grin on its face. He felt as if he were being mocked. Had he kept his guard up, maybe none of this would have happened. Everyone was more or less safe, yes, but now they had a nearly completely destroyed corpse in the morgue, which had gone through a sped-up aging process. Its skin tightened as his power that had animated it vanished. The cold corpse on the floor became rigid, going through rigor mortis again, clutching and cramping against the table it had been laid on.
After a few minutes, Ian rose, supported by Leon. They made their way to the break room, situated almost directly above them. The cleaning crew that normally used it had left it in good shape, coffee pot ready to go and some cookies left from someone’s party.
The world seemed to regain some sense of reality as they dug into the sugar and chocolate cookies and waited for the coffee to brew.
“Ian, what happened down there?” Leon said as he poured them each a cup of coffee from the machine.
Ian took a quick glance at Hannah, who frowned at him, concern in her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was bumped against it, and I saw it twitch strongly. It just threw me off, but it kept getting worse and worse. I just couldn’t stop looking at it. I guess I passed out, okay? Last thing I remember was telling you to get the axe,” he said and took a long sip of his coffee.
Leon nodded and turned to Reeves, who was writing something on a piece of paper. Hannah took another cookie from the stash on the table.
Realization dawned on Ian after his third cup of coffee. Whoever they were up against was using, or was affected by, a degree of power not completely unlike his own. The thought of it shook him. Someone who had magic and other abilities at their disposal was hunting down the innocent, but for what? Bio-organs that mysteriously disappeared and were never seen again?
Ian held his head in his hands. Pain stabbed through his skull. How had the thing been able to draw his power from him? He hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself. Besides, it had caught him off guard, but man, he needed to think about what was going on.
Hannah rested her hand against his shoulder, and he glanced over at her as she wiped chocolate chip cookie crumbles from her lips. Her eyebrows drew together, and small creases formed between her eyes. “Are you okay?”
He smiled and leaned his forehead against Hannah’s. He trailed his thumb over a smudge of chocolate she’d missed. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. I guess the surprise of seeing a dead body raise up took something out of me.” He laughed, and Leon joined in.
“You can say that again. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Well…” Leon ran a hand over his close-cut hair. He glanced at Reeves’s notepad and raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Oh, really?”
Reeves frowned and nodded his head toward the door. He stared at Ian and Hannah for a moment before raising his hand, and then he ducked out into the hallway. His footsteps clomped along the tile hall, away from the break room.
“I need to get back to work. I’ll walk you toward the front. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Perhaps grab a bite if the weather’s good.” Leon led the way through the corridors and floors of the hospital. If they hadn’t been with him, it wouldn’t have been hard to get lost in this place. He finally began to see an area that looked familiar from their previous visit.
They waved to Leon, and he disappeared back into the maze of the building.
Ian stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air quality in the city wasn’t by any means wonderful, but it was a lot better than breathing in the scent of a hospital. He grimaced and glanced over his shoulder before taking Hannah’s hand and leading her away from the building.
“Let’s catch a taxi. I’m not feeling up to walking the distance home. Not aft
er what happened last time or what happened in there.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes in the rising morning light.
Hannah pulled him to a stop and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down a little and placed her lips near his ear. To anyone else, they were talking dirty like a couple their age would, but he knew otherwise. “What happened in there?” she asked.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home.” He pulled back a little and led her toward an area where taxis waited for people who were leaving the hospital. They got steady business with the hospital being as large as it was.
The cab ride home wasn’t eventful except for the cabbie playing a talk radio station. He stared out the window and watched the city go by as the cabbie made daredevil moves through the packed streets.
When he’d first moved to the city, he’d been antsy when it came to taxis, but somehow the thrill and fear he should feel from the aggressive driving didn’t bother him as much.
Hannah’s hand gripped his tightly, and he glanced over at her. She looked slightly nauseated and pale. Her gaze was fixed out the side window so she wouldn’t see what was going on in front of them.
He knew she normally preferred to drive and was very nervous when someone else drove. He gripped her hand and gave her a wry smile. The traffic outside became more erratic, as a section of the lights was under maintenance. A group of police officers tried to herd the three-lane traffic into a single lane with little success. Her hand gripped his tighter as she turned to look at the small screen inside the cab. It displayed commercials about the latest shows and museum exhibits nearby.
After fifteen minutes of listening to the police whistles and angry honks, they finally arrived home. While Hannah paid the driver, he took a few moments to relax and stare at the scenery, the few trees and water he could barely see in the distance. Winter would arrive soon enough, and what leaves there were would soon litter the streets. Feeling Hannah’s arm in his, he turned and opened the outer door.
Chapter Seven
Inside, Hannah felt a little more at ease. Ian had complained about being tired on and off, so she had started the coffee and prepared a quick snack. As they ate a slice of carrot cake and drank coffee, she saw Ian slowly relaxing more, and his tension seemed to lift.
“So, want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s a lot better here. I think I know why the body was drained,” he started and looked outside for a moment. He explained what he thought had happened. Barely able to accept his intuition, she felt that if someone else had mentioned the same details and conclusions she would have asked them to be committed.
“So, you think there is someone else like you?” she asked. Something was off. Her gaze scanned the room.
“Not quite like me. The body had been infused with magic, and later that was taken away. The only way a normal human could have anything like that would be if they were targeted or near a very powerful spell. But the placement of the material in the blood means that whoever did it also had medical knowledge. Had the blood been infused with a transmitter and magic, and later drawn, the traces would be hard to follow. I believe the other bodies might have some similarities. And if I believe that, then most likely the blood, or what was in the blood, was used to control the subject or their nervous system during the procedures and the torture they endured,” Ian said and cocked an eyebrow. “What are you looking for anyway?”
“It’s quiet in here. Too quiet. Where is that gnome?” Hannah got up from the table.
They searched the apartment, only to find nothing visibly wrong. It would seem that whatever it was they were after knew where they lived. But she couldn’t comprehend how someone could make it through the extensive wardings around the apartment.
Hannah heard Ian cuss, but her focus from the patio where Bernard’s garden was situated was further down into the alley below. “Ian, you know he’ll be fine, right?” She frowned.
“However annoying he can be at times, he’s still family, in a way. I can’t believe Bernard is gone,” Ian said. He paused and raised his hands, obviously summoning his technomancy. His face went ashen. “Crap. The wards are gone. I should’ve felt this before.” He brushed his palm over the air. “What remains in their place is just corrupted fragments of the magic. Only small pieces remain here and there. There are no enhanced spells still floating around, but a slight tang of decay is everywhere. Call it an aftertaste, if you will, of the power someone used to get in. It’s a cancer, or a radiation poisoning, acid on metal.” Ian’s tone was frustrated, and he took a few long breaths.
Hannah felt her chest tighten. Not only were they tired, Bernard was missing, and someone had broken in. Unbelievable.
Ian shook his head and returned to the kitchen with disgust written on his face.
“At least we have some clues to consider,” Hannah said. “Whoever did this most likely has Bernard. As soon as we solve the case, we’ll find him. There are those other bodies we can check. First, we need to rest. You look like you could fall down at any minute, and I don’t feel much better myself. Time to get some sleep, love.” She walked to the bedroom door.
Ian took a few steps forward, but stopped. “I’ll be right there. I need to build a temporary ward on the front door,” he said and crossed the living room toward the entrance.
A few moments later, he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
* * *
Waking up, Ian felt slightly different from normal. The slight pull and tug of power that the gnome tended to throw around was not present. Bernard’s power normally felt like a squishy sludge, with barbed ends roughing against his own power. It sometimes made him nervous. Besides, he had been able to sleep soundly.
Outside the door, he heard someone in the kitchen and noticed that Hannah had already woken up. He got dressed and walked through the living room to the kitchen.
“Hey honey, what’s up?” he asked, seeing a smile creep into Hannah’s features.
“Nothing much. Just getting some chores done.” She put another coffee mug in the cabinet from their old dishwasher.
Walking closer, he pulled her into a hug.
“What’s that for?” Hannah asked, curiously.
“Just because,” he answered and retrieved the remote from the living room.
Flicking through the news channels gave them no further information regarding the murders, and it seemed to be mostly just repeated words describing the bloody incidents.
“This will get us nowhere. Let me call Leon to see if he knows anything new on their end.” Ian grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed the number and almost dropped the phone, hearing a female voice answer.
“I’m sorry I must have dialed the wrong number. I was trying to reach Leon,” he said ready to hang up.
“Would you be Ian? I’m Mrs. Hendrickson. He left his phone at work, and we haven’t been able to reach him at his home. Could you check his home? I hope he just forgot the phone here and is off shopping or something,” Hendrickson replied nervously.
Ian talked with her a moment, sorting out the details of when Leon was last seen before hanging up. It felt wrong. After last night, he had real doubts Leon would even take a step outside without being cautious.
Hannah walked toward him and waited for him to break the news. Telling her the new details took only a few moments. Her eyes narrowed.
“So, we have someone that tried to break in here and corrupted the wards, a zombie last night, and now Leon is missing? Coincidence? I think not.” She checked her gun and slid it into her purse.
“What are you doing?” he asked, seeing her angry expression.
“Arming myself. Someone is taunting us. I’m just preparing,” she said and got a clip from the cupboard next to her.
* * *
Hannah and Ian took a cab to Leon’s home. The outside of the affluent neighborhood was a constant reminder of Rich, who had passed away. Leon, as a nurse, stuck out like a sore thumb in an area mo
stly consisting of lawyers, programmers, and businessmen. Still, no one had questioned how he could afford it.
At the door, Ian placed his hand on the keypad and closed his eyes. After a moment, the door clicked as it unlocked. Hannah pushed the door open. The hallway was clean and had no signs of struggle. They split up, Ian heading upstairs while Hannah checked the remaining rooms downstairs.
She could hear Ian walking on the floor above as she checked room after room, but everything was set neatly like it had been when they had first come around to talk to Leon about Rich. Even the garage was clean, other than a few oily rags he had left in the corner for maintenance.
Hearing Ian coming downstairs, she headed toward the living room. “There’s nothing here. Can you check the cameras?” she asked and walked toward the big couch in the middle of the room.
Ian nodded and strode to an interactive wall in the living room. He placed his hands on it. The wall lit as small threads of diagnostic code ran on the top part of the screen. Slowly but firmly, a network of machinery and data appeared on the wall.
He moved his hands over the screen, and the interface on the wall suddenly shifted and focused on a small, terminal-style icon on the bottom. It just as quickly went through an authentication login and finally brought them the recordings.
Ian joined her on the couch and grabbed the remote. “Here, now we can both see it,” he said and clicked through the recordings.
After nearly ten minutes of checking various recordings of a UPS guy with a lisp and Leon coming and going to and from the door for various reasons, they found a video from the night before. The screen flickered a few times as it switched to the video.
A man of an average height, who seemed to have been jogging, walked to the door and pushed the doorbell. His outfit consisted of sweatpants and a loosely fitting jacket. The hood covered the face from the angle of the camera. The picture started to flicker as the man tilted his head upwards slightly, before returning his gaze to the door.
