Gallery of the Dead

by Chris Carter

  ‘Let’s do this,’ Agent Williams said.

  They took off in the direction of the house.

  Eighty-Nine

  Hunter, Garcia and both FBI agents walked as fast and as stealthily as they could, and considering that they had opted to keep their flashlights switched off so as not to give away their approach, they bridged the two hundred and forty yards between their last position and the ranch in almost no time. Their dark clothes also helped them blend into the night, in case anyone was looking.

  As they got to where the old gates to the ranch would have been – about forty yards from the house – they all heard a distant sound like a car engine running in low gear.

  ‘What’s that noise?’ Agent Fisher asked.

  ‘Generator,’ Garcia replied. ‘Probably somewhere at the back of the house.’

  Hunter also noticed some fresh tire tracks on the dirty road leading into the ranch. They rounded the stables and disappeared toward the back of it.

  ‘OK, this is where we split,’ Agent Fisher said, looking up into the sky. The wind had strengthened a few notches in the last two minutes. The smell of damp soil now seemed to be part of the night. Rain was just minutes away. She paused and looked at both detectives. ‘Stay safe.’

  ‘Wait,’ Garcia said, as he reached into his pocket and handed her a hairband. ‘Here, for your hair. You don’t want it flipping onto your face while you’re chasing the bad guy, do you?’

  She shook her head. ‘This is my good-luck charm. Only once I chased a perp with my hair tied back. That was the only time one ever escaped me.’

  ‘OK.’ Garcia returned his hairband to his pocket.

  Agents Fisher and Williams made their way toward the large stable building, while Hunter and Garcia carefully approached the dilapidated house on the right. Hunter used his flashlight to examine the front door. There was no lock. Its frame was old and split in places, and most of the dark-green paint that had once covered the door and the rest of the house had long ago cracked and chipped away, thanks to the elements.

  ‘We’ve got to find another way in,’ Hunter said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Check out those hinges,’ Hunter replied, flashing his light at them. ‘They’re covered in rust. We open this door and even under cover of the generator’s noise, those hinges will sound like an alarm.’

  ‘Great!’ Garcia looked right, then left. ‘So which way do you want to go?’

  Hunter pointed right.

  Once again, being as careful as they possibly could not to make any noise, they rounded the house to the right. As they made it to the side of the property they halted. A faint light showed at one of the second-floor windows.

  ‘The killer being upstairs isn’t necessarily a bad thing,’ Garcia said.

  Hunter agreed with a nod.

  ‘Team A, this is team B,’ Hunter whispered into his headset. ‘What’s your location? Over.’

  A second later Hunter’s earpiece cracked into life.

  ‘We have just entered the stables, over,’ Agent Fisher whispered back.

  ‘We’ve got a light on the second floor of the house,’ Hunter said. ‘You guys might be in an empty building over there, over.’

  ‘Not sure about that. We’ve also got a light here. Inside one of the enclosures. Can you see any movement? Over.’

  ‘Not from where we’re standing. We’re still outside the building. How about you guys, can you see any movement? Over.’

  ‘Same as you. Not from where we’re standing.’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘I think it’s best to proceed as planned and maintain radio contact. Over.’

  ‘Ten four. Over and out.’

  Hunter passed on the news to Garcia.

  ‘Oh, that’s awesome.’

  The first ground-floor window on the right side of the house was completely gone. No glass, no frame, nothing. All that was left was a huge hole in the woodwork.

  ‘I guess we’ve found our way in,’ Garcia said.

  Hunter quickly checked the floor inside the house directly under the window – no glass.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ Garcia said.

  ‘Careful with the floorboards,’ Hunter said. ‘They might crack, squeak, or both, so step lightly.’

  ‘Sure, Dad.’ Garcia smiled. ‘Here, hold the Twins.’ He handed his shotgun to Hunter.

  ‘I can’t believe you actually named your gun.’

  ‘You liked that, didn’t you? My pistol is called Big Baraboom.’

  Hunter just shook his head.

  Garcia got through the window hole without any problems. As his feet applied pressure against the floorboards they squeaked, but very lightly.

  Hunter passed the Twins back to his partner.

  ‘The floorboards feel quite solid for such an old and uncared-for house,’ Garcia said.

  Hunter handed him his H&K Mark 23 pistol and quickly cleared the window.

  The room they landed in was square, with an old three-seater sofa pushed up against one of the walls. The sofa had long ago lost all its cushions and a few of its springs could be seen through the large rips in its fabric. Against the opposite wall was a tall and very wide bookcase. Out of its twelve shelves, only three remained. The floor was practically covered in old paperbacks. A tipped-over coffee table was in the center of the room, which carried a strong smell of damp, old paper and rotting wood.

  Hunter hand-signaled Garcia – Cover formation. I’ll take lead.

  Garcia nodded.

  Hunter switched on his flashlight, held it in his left hand with an inverted grip and brought it under his right arm – wrist against wrist – creating a cross where the left wrist supported the right one, his weapon hand. He held both at chest height with his right arm extended.

  Garcia held his flashlight under the barrels of the Twins. Being a shotgun, his weapon came up to shoulder height.

  Hunter moved forward, taking extra-light steps.

  Garcia was right – the floorboards felt a lot more solid than Hunter had expected. They did squeak, but not loud enough to alert anyone.

  Hunter stepped over Moby Dick, The Three Musketeers, The Sun Also Rises and several other classics before finally reaching the door, which was flat against the floor outside the room. With his back against one of the walls, Hunter peaked around the doorframe – first right, then left. The next room also seemed absolutely still.

  Hunter signaled for them to move on.

  As they took their first step over the flat door, their bones practically jumped out of their bodies.

  BANG, BANG.

  From outside the house, coming from the direction of the stables, they heard two gunshots.

  Hunter and Garcia locked eyes, fear and confusion swimming around in them. Neither had to say a word to each other.

  They turned and dashed like a couple of Olympic runners toward the house’s front door.

  Something had gone horribly wrong.

  Ninety

  ‘OK, this is where we split,’ Agent Fisher said, looking up into the sky.

  The agents left Hunter and Garcia behind and quickly made their way toward the stables building. Once they got there, they flattened their backs against the wall to the right of the two large, sliding, barn-style doors. The doors hadn’t been slid all the way shut, leaving a gap between them of about a foot and a half.

  ‘Now that’s lucky,’ Agent Williams said, nodding at the doors. ‘We can make it through that gap without having to touch the doors.’ He quickly flashed a light on the door rails. They were in a terrible condition.

  ‘I’ll go in first,’ Agent Fisher said, but Agent Williams stopped her by placing a hand on her left shoulder.

  ‘No, Erica, I’ll go first. You cover me.’

  ‘Always the protective gentleman,’ Agent Fisher said, winking at her partner.

  Neither of them had any trouble clearing the gap between the doors.

  The inside of the building looked pretty much like wha
t most people would expect a stable to look like – a long and wide corridor, flanked on both sides by individual horse enclosures. The concrete that paved the corridor was old, warped and cracked. The enclosures had clearly been modified and were a little different from most regular stables. There were no windows, openings, flaps or metal bars where one could look into the enclosure to check on the animals. Instead, they all had solid, sliding wooden doors, which were all shut. There must’ve been about twelve to fourteen enclosures on each side of the corridor, but what really made them pause as they cleared the stable doors was the fact that on the left, toward the end of the long corridor, they could see a dim light coming through the cracks on the wood panels from one of the enclosures.

  ‘So what do we do?’ Agent Williams asked, his voice a barely audible whisper. ‘Do we start at this end and check every enclosure, or do we move straight down the corridor and start with the lit one?’

  Before Agent Fisher could reply, her headset cracked into life and she heard Hunter’s voice loud and clear.

  ‘Team A, this is team B. What’s your location? Over.’

  . . .

  Once Agent Fisher ended her transmission with Hunter her eyes found her partner’s. ‘I don’t like this, Larry. Not even a little bit.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘There’s a light on in the house as well,’ she replied. ‘Second floor. Just like us they can see no movement. Not yet.’

  Agent Williams looked down the corridor at the faint light coming from one of the enclosures.

  ‘You’re right,’ he finally said. ‘I also think that the best thing to do is to proceed as planned. So how do you want to do this?’ he asked again. ‘Do we start at this end and check every enclosure, or do we move straight down the corridor and start with the lit one?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Agent Fisher whispered back. ‘The light could be a trick.’

  At that exact moment a muffled clang came from the first enclosure to their left, as if something had been dropped onto the floor.

  Both of their hearts missed a beat.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Agent Fisher asked.

  Agent Williams nodded and quickly signaled her to get ready.

  With ballerina steps they approached the enclosure. Agent Williams signaled his partner to ready herself at one side of the door, while he positioned himself at the other. The plan was for Agent Fisher to quickly slide the door open. Agent Williams would then storm the enclosure first, quickly followed by Agent Fisher. The two of them had performed similar maneuvers during different investigations countless times before. They both knew exactly what to do.

  They readied their weapons and flashlights and signaled each other that they would go on the count of three. Agent Fisher used head nods to count them in.

  One. Two. Three.

  In one powerful yank, Agent Fisher pulled the door open. It traveled down its old and rusty rails uneasily, but still fast enough to surprise anyone who’d been hiding inside the horse enclosure.

  As the door slid open, Agent Williams, who had his back against the wall outside, quickly rotated his body clockwise and into the horse enclosure, his right arm extended in front of him, his eyes alert, his weapon searching for a target.

  A split second later, Agent Fisher appeared to his left, her weapon just as hungry as his.

  Their eyes moved in every direction, finding nothing. The enclosure was empty, but their attention was immediately drawn to a second door located diagonally across from where they stood. It was an internal door that linked to the next enclosure along, and it was wide open.

  ‘The enclosures link internally,’ Agent Fisher whispered.

  Agent Williams nodded and signaled for them to take cover formation. He would take the lead.

  Moving three paces in front of his partner, Agent Williams began making his way toward the open door, his attention on edge, his weapon ready to fire. As he got to a few feet from it, he turned to signal Agent Fisher again, but paused in total confusion.

  Agent Fisher’s weapon was raised and aiming straight at his heart.

  ‘I’m sorry, Larry,’ she said in a quivering voice. Her eyes drowning in tears.

  ‘What?’ Agent Williams was the image of perplexity. His weapon arm had relaxed, as his brain tried hard to make sense of senseless. ‘What are you talking about, Erica?’

  ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she said again. Tears began rolling down her face.

  ‘Sorry? Sorry for what?’

  ‘For this.’

  Agent Fisher squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession. The bullets exploded against Agent Williams’ chest with maximum impact, rupturing muscle, shattering bone and perforating his heart in two places.

  Ninety-One

  Hunter and Garcia exited the house in the direction of the stables at full speed. As if on cue, as soon as they hit the ground outside, the rain that had been threatening finally arrived . . . and it seemed angry. Its raindrops were the size of grapes.

  ‘Officer down,’ Hunter heard Agent Fisher’s voice come through his headset. ‘Officer down.’

  ‘What?’ Hunter called over giant strides. ‘What happened?’

  In no time at all the two detectives had reached the stables, squeezing through the gap between the two sliding doors with a simple body twist. Their weapons were up and ready, their breathing labored, their clothes drenched in rainwater.

  They looked left, then right – nothing.

  ‘Over here.’

  They both heard Agent Fisher’s voice coming from the horse enclosure to their left. Hunter and Garcia lost no time, immediately rushing to it. As they entered the square pen, they saw Agent Fisher kneeling by a pool of blood, cradling Agent Williams’ lifeless body in her arms. A few feet behind her was a second door, which stood wide open.

  ‘Jesus, what happened?’ Hunter called out, kneeling next to the agent.

  Garcia stood by the first door, guarding the entrance like a hawk.

  The rain, pelting down against the old roof full of holes, filled the stable with a deafening drumming-like noise. Water drips began appearing everywhere.

  ‘Too many enclosures,’ Agent Fisher explained in an anxious voice, her eyes full of tears. ‘We decided to split up. I took the right side and Larry took the left one. I had just entered the first enclosure on the other side when I heard the shots.’

  ‘Have you called it in?’ Hunter asked. ‘Have you called for an ambulance?’

  ‘Yes, but what good will that do, Robert? He’s gone, can’t you see? He’s gone.’

  Hunter looked up at the opened door. ‘Did you see anyone? Did you see the shooter?’

  ‘No, I didn’t see anyone, but it looks like the enclosures all connect internally. He could be anywhere right now.’

  Hunter looked back at Garcia.

  ‘No one has exited the stables,’ Garcia said. ‘At least not through the door we came in. If anyone had I would’ve seen it.’

  CRANK.

  They all heard a loud noise coming from outside the enclosure. Hunter and Agent Fisher jumped to their feet.

  CRANK.

  It happened again.

  Weapons in hand, all three of them stepped outside the enclosure as cautiously as they could. There was no one there.

  ‘Shit,’ Agent Fisher said. ‘The doors.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘When we got here,’ she clarified, ‘every single door was shut.’ She indicated the door to enclosure number five on the right side and then the one to number six on the left. They were now both open.

  ‘Where the hell is the strike team?’ Garcia asked. ‘Shouldn’t they be here by now?’

  Agent Fisher didn’t reply.

  ‘So what now?’ Garcia again.

  ‘Well, I’m not waiting,’ Agent Fisher said, stepping to one side to avoid a leak from the roof. ‘I’m going after this bastard. You guys do what you think you should do.’ She began moving toward the second enclosure on the right.


  ‘Wait,’ Hunter called, as he turned and faced Garcia. ‘Stay with her. I’ll take the left side.’

  ‘I don’t need a babysitter,’ Agent Fisher replied, before using the back of her right hand to wipe tears from her eyes.

  ‘No one is babysitting anyone, Erica,’ Hunter came back. ‘We need to split up and there’re three of us. No offense, but you’re a bit shaken up and your eyes are full of tears. Your reflexes are not the same as they were a moment ago. So I’ll take the left side, you two take the right. Go.’

  ‘No,’ Agent Fisher retorted. ‘If you take the right side and we take the left one, the corridor between both sides stays clear. The killer might get past us without us noticing him. Better would be if you take the left enclosures, Carlos takes the right ones and I’ll hold the corridor. If he runs from one side to the other, I’ll spot him. It gives us a better chance.’

  ‘She’s got a point, Robert,’ Garcia agreed.

  ‘OK,’ Hunter said. ‘Anyone see anything, shout. Let’s move.’

  Repeating the same maneuver Agent Fisher had performed with Agent Williams when opening the door to the first enclosure on the left just moments ago, she helped Garcia with the door to the first enclosure on the right.

  Hunter went back to the one on the left, skipped over Agent Williams’ body on the floor and entered the second enclosure through the internal door.

  It was empty.

  So was the one Garcia had entered. It looked identical to the one they had just come from, with an internal door that linked the first enclosure to the second one. The door was open.

  Garcia moved fast but quietly, his eyes covering every direction as he took each step. He placed his back against the wall to the left of the opened door, readied himself and rotated his body counterclockwise into the next room.

  Empty.

  Directly in front of him was the internal door that linked that enclosure to the next one. Garcia moved to it.

  The rain outside, and some of it inside, had strengthened considerably. The drumming noise against the old roof now sounded like a Death Metal concert.