by Brown, TW
“Okay,” Emily said and stepped back beside Thalia.
I only had a moment to puzzle over the awkward reunion with Emily; we’d really started getting closer in the days leading up to my most recent departure.
I took the task of introducing all of my people. There were twenty now…Wow! When did that happen? The names ticked off as I had each person step forward: Dr. Zahn, Teresa, Thalia, Emily, Melissa, Ian, Billy, Jamie, Aaron, Sunshine, Chloe, Fiona, Brad, Jillian, Molly, Jason, Paul, George, Curtis, and myself. A post-apocalyptic Mousekateer roll call. And with the exception of a handful…all murder suspects.
“My name is Jonathan Saunders. I think we can dismiss the title of sergeant at this point.” The man stepped forward and shook the nearest hands available as he spoke. “These two are Jesus Sanchez and Jake Beebe. I’ll let y’all decide which is which.”
Jake had center stage now that Jesus had unloaded the flamethrower. At about six-feet tall and well over two hundred pounds, he looked like every stereotypical farm boy. In a word: big. As he greeted those around him, I wasn’t surprised at all to hear a lazy Southern drawl.
Once the initial introductions concluded, I told Teresa and Ian to show our three new arrivals around. I whispered to Dr. Zahn that I would meet her after dinner to discuss the ‘issue’. I made eye contact with Melissa. She followed my gaze. Emily had pulled away from the group and was standing alone, staring at the ground. She nodded and grabbed Thalia by the hand saying something that made the little girl smile and nod eagerly. Everyone drifted off to whatever tasks that had been interrupted by this excitement leaving me with Emily.
“Hey, little one.” I sat down on the edge of the porch letting my legs dangle. I patted the spot beside me.
Nothing.
“Aren’t you gonna welcome me back?” I asked.
An indistinct mumble.
Obviously this tactic was a bust. This further instilled the belief that I knew absolutely nothing about being a parent. I sat quietly for a moment, pondering my next destined-to-fail move when I noticed her shuffle a few baby steps my way. Okay, I thought, I’ll take the shy-forest-creature approach. In other words, sit still and quiet and let her come to me.
A few minutes later she trudged over and sat down beside me, hands folded in her lap. I put my arm around her shoulder and she collapsed into my side, crying. No…not just crying; I’d never considered the difference between crying and all out sobbing. Emily was sobbing. I did the only thing I could possibly do and not screw it up. I sat quietly.
***
“So how do we go about this?” Dr. Zahn asked.
We’d walked out on one of the increasingly overgrown nature trails to ensure a little privacy. For now, I felt it best to keep this between me and her.
“I guess I should have watched more of those CSI shows,” I said with a shrug, “because I am at a total loss on how we should conduct a murder investigation.”
“Well, it’s not like I can rely on forensic evidence.”
“And questioning people…I wouldn’t have any clue on what to ask or how to judge if anyone is telling the truth or not,” I admitted.
“We’re gonna have to bring in some of the others,” Dr. Zahn said.
“We agree on Teresa and Ian.” I still have a tiny reservation about him, but my gut said he wasn’t the killing type. And if he had in fact done time, as I had suspected, perhaps he could be of some assistance. “I think we need at least one more set of eyes.”
“Two,” Dr. Zahn countered. “I’ll concede Melissa, partially because I’m fairly certain it’s not her, but also because there’s no way I could expect you to keep something this big from your sweetheart. But…I’d like to bring in Curtis Sheppard.”
“The immune guy?” I asked totally surprised by this choice.
“I’ve gotten to know him a little better in your absence,” Dr. Zahn explained. “He’s very bright and I trust him.”
“Replacing Dave are we?” I instantly regretted the statement. It’s one of those things that sounded witty and clever in my head, but fell out of my mouth like a lead balloon.
“Don’t be vile, Steve,” Dr. Zahn scolded.
“Sorry,” I said and meant it. Really? How could I joke like that? I killed Dave Ellis after his actions had almost cost Thalia her life. No, let’s be honest; I murdered Dave Ellis. That should mean that, had I not been gone, I would be a perfect suspect in the Randi Jenkins murder case. We had our moments. “So, tell me about Curtis. Why him?”
“He’s not one of our core group; and I think he’s fair-minded. He’ll be the one checking out each of us as we check out everybody else,” the doctor stated.
It made perfect sense. If we didn’t bring in somebody outside of our little click, it might look bad later when the investigation was revealed. And eventually it would have to be.
“You want to tell him?” I asked.
“I’d prefer you to do it.”
“Umm…” That was puzzling, but I wasn’t going to open my mouth again. I’d already said something stupid once.
***
“…and Dr. Zahn is certain?” Curtis stopped and turned to face me. I’d made the excuse of asking him to give me a hand cutting down some trees for firewood. If we wanted it seasoned and ready it would be best to start now. “Who would want to kill that nice woman?”
“Well, that is what we are going to find out,” I said. “But the problem we have, is that if only those of us from our original group do the investigating—”
“It will look shady,” Curtis finished my sentence. “Yeah, I could see that. So who do you suspect?”
“That’s the problem,” I admitted. “We don’t even have the slightest clue.”
“So I’m supposed to just keep my eyes open for anything suspicious.”
“Pretty much.”
“And who do I report to?”
“Dr. Zahn, Teresa, Ian, Melissa, and myself.”
We found a fallen tree and went to work with a two-man saw. Then, using a splitting maul, we quartered or split the pieces and made a big pile. Everybody would help haul and stack it behind the house. It was a labor-intensive evolution, but it needed doing. Two more trees took us the rest of the day.
Afterwards, we went to the stream to clean up. By the time we got back to the house, dinner was being served: canned ravioli and mostly stale wheat crisps in an institutional-sized box with generic black writing stamped on the off-white package. There was a lot of chatting going on with the three newest arrivals coming right on top of my return. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do much talking. Mostly, I just nodded and smiled.
Thalia spent the entire meal sitting in my lap. Well, on the right side anyways. Emily plopped down on the left. It earned smiles from both Melissa and Teresa. I was so exhausted that I think I actually nodded off once or twice.
Halfway through the meal, Aaron came down from the tower and Sanchez took his spot. I guess Saunders and his men were already integrated into our routine. Jillian excused herself and went out to relieve Ian. I’d been told that a small tower had been constructed and concealed by branches at the head of the road that entered the campground. A small light was rigged, and if flashed, could be seen by the tower on top of the house. This smaller tower was only manned at night. Yep, they’d done just fine in moving forward in my absence. I found that all to be strangely comforting.
After dinner, I sat as long as I could, but eventually I hugged the girls and excused myself. My first day back had been too much. Just as the place had moved ahead in my absence, it instantly swept me up upon arrival. I hadn’t even been able to really have some time with Melissa. I wanted to talk to Teresa some more about the baby thing…and Jamie too for that matter. I needed a little time with Thalia and Emily. Hell, I needed a little time to clear my own head.
***
“Steve!” I sat up looking around completely disoriented. Being woke up from a dead sleep while it is still pitch-dark really sucked.
“S
teve!” the voice hissed again.
I turned my head and tried desperately to make out anything in the blackness. The slightest hint of moonlight coming in from the front brought my eyes to the doorway that opened to the visitor’s center and main entry room. I felt for Melissa who I expected to find beside me and was hit by another adrenaline bolt to the gut and bladder when I felt nothing but rumpled sleeping bag. I got up and felt my way through the room; my toes acting like unwilling curb feelers. I probably cursed a dozen times before I made it to the figure—correction, figures—waiting for me in the doorway.
“We’ve got a problem,” Curtis’s voice rose to just above a whisper.
“Where’s Melissa?” Trouble was not something I wanted to hear about when the woman I might very well be in love with was not beside me in bed when I woke up.
“Right here, Steve,” her voice shaved about twenty beats a minute from my heart rate. I felt her hand on my arm.
“What’s the problem?” I asked; my eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness.
“Just come with us,” Curtis urged.
I slipped into my boots and did as he asked. We left the house and I shivered. The night air was cold, a reminder of the changing seasons on the horizon. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked in the still strange silence of this newly dead world. The sliver of moon cast just enough light to see by as we made our way down the hill to the entrance road.
Walking in the alley-like trench between the two earthen berms cast us in darkness again. I could barely make out the person in front of me—Melissa—as we moved. Fortunately, Curtis had a Maglite flashlight with a red filter over the lens that he used as we continued on to some new and fresh nightmare—and I was certain that this was going to be bad—that fate had in store for us.
Then we stopped. Melissa and Curtis swapped places and he directed his beam of light to the right of the entry road, into the woods. It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. There was a four-legged wooden tower that stood about ten-feet high. A platform was in place at about the eight-foot mark. I could see a couple of handles or rungs that would make it easy for a living person to climb, but no way for a zombie to manage. A safety rail topped the structure and a seat had been bolted into place. That wasn’t what they brought me out to see.
What looked like a clothes line was tied to the top railing. Jillian dangled from that line. Her feet brushed the tops of the ferns beneath the tower.
“What the…” my voice trailed off.
“I came out to relieve her,” Melissa’s voice trembled. “When I flashed her the signal and she didn’t return it, I thought she’d fallen asleep. But then—” her voice broke at that point.
“I was on watch in the tower,” Curtis explained. I’d just relieved Sanchez. When I didn’t see the double flash indicating that the watch had been changed at the tower, I sent Sanchez to see what was up—”
“He never got here,” Melissa cut in.
“And he’s not in the house?” I asked. I knew Sanchez wasn’t the killer; he wasn’t here when Randi was murdered. But still…if he wasn’t here, where was he?
“Nope,” Curtis answered.
“Did you guys do a head count to see if anyone else is missing? Perhaps Sanchez saw or heard something. If so…he might be chasing down the killer. Knowing who isn’t accounted for—”
“Damn!” Curtis swore. “I was so intent on getting you that it never crossed my—”
A loud crash in the woods cut him off. Each of us had weapons in our hands in an instant. I didn’t relish the idea of shooting in the dark. Besides the fact that it would draw every zombie for miles, we had one of ours out there and I didn’t want to hit him. Curtis swept the area with his torch, but whoever or whatever it was remained hidden.
“Sanchez?” I risked calling out. That beat firing a gun. Al-though I did have to admit my voice sure seemed loud. No reply. I tried again. There was another crash and then I heard a voice.
“Coming out,” it wasn’t really a whisper, but it was damn quiet. That’s probably why all three of us screamed when a dark figure popped up out of the brush less than fifteen feet away.
“Jesus Christ, Sanchez!” I barked.
“It’s Hay-Soos.” The man slid a wicked looking knife into a sheath at his side. “And my middle name is Philipé.”
“You scared the hell out of us!” Melissa snapped.
“Yeah, well, sorry about that,” Sanchez said. “But I was chasing somebody.”
“Any idea who?” I asked.
“Nope,” he replied sounding angry. “But whoever it is, they’re good. Put me off their trail quick.”
“Is it one of our own?” I didn’t really want the answer.
“No idea,” Sanchez said with a shrug. “Never got an actual look.”
“Are they still out there?”
“Like I said,” the anger and annoyance boiled over in his voice, “I never got a clean look, and whoever it was ditched me like I was a boot camp nub.”
“Nub?” Curtis asked continuing to sweep the area with his light.
“Non-Useful Body,” Sanchez said with a scowl.
“Then we better get back to the house and do a head count,” I offered.
“No need,” a voice hissed. I felt only marginally better that Sanchez yelped like the three of us regular people. “I did a check before I left.” Ian stepped out of the shadows. “Everybody is snug in their beds.”
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Sanchez asked. It wasn’t the tone I would have used, but it was the question in my head.
“I heard Curtis and Melissa wake up Steve,” he explained. “Considering recent events, I made an educated guess as to why. I checked to see who might be missing and came up with Jillian, Curtis, Melissa, Steve…and you.”
“Recent events?” Sanchez asked. Obviously confusing their recent arrival with Randi’s murder which he knew nothing about. His tone was instantly defensive, and I heard something very deadly underneath waiting to spring.
“We recently had somebody here murdered.” I blurted. “It happened a few days ago and we just started looking into it.”
“And you didn’t think to let anybody know?” Sanchez barked. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“It was made to look like a suicide,” I said, and quickly explained everything; making it a point to defend our choice not to let anybody in on it in the hopes that we could sniff out the killer without letting him or her know that we were on to them.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got no choice now,” Sanchez pointed out. “Nobody is going to buy two apparent suicides that close together. You’ve got to tell everybody what is going on.”
“The killer is going to know were on to them,” Melissa said.
“I don’t think he’s trying to hide it.” Sanchez pointed to Jillian’s body.
“He?” I asked, catching the emphasis.
“Whoever did this physically overpowered his victim and strangled them,” he explained. “I bet your doctor would find the same cause of death. Then, whoever it was had to hoist and tie off the body. There ain’t nothing easy about hoisting dead weight.”
“You saying a woman is too weak?” Melissa bristled.
“I’m saying, that of the women here, I don’t think any of you sport the arm and upper body strength to hoist a dead body,” Sanchez said flatly, unmoved by Melissa’s confrontation.
“Pig,” Melissa scoffed and stomped away.
“I’ll go.” I help up my hands. “Sanchez, can you and Ian take care of Jillian?”
“Where should we bring her?” Ian asked.
“That first camp site off the main trail where that big picnic table is,” I decided. Then I took off after Melissa.
***
Getting back to sleep wasn’t an option; it took me almost two hours to get Melissa calm enough so that I wouldn’t have to worry about a third murder. Since there wasn’t really anything that I imagined could be done, I let Dr. Zahn s
leep. She’d be busy soon enough.
I watched the sun rise with Melissa next to me on the porch. She actually drifted off under my arm. I heard movement in the house, but waited. This was going to ruin everybody’s day. Including the killer who obviously thought that we were gullible and stupid.
“Morning, Steve.” Jonathan Saunders stepped out onto the porch and stretched.
“Morning…err…Sarge? Or should I call you Jonathan?...Saunders…? What the hell do I call you?”
“Jon is fine,” the man said with a bemused laugh.
“All right. Good morning, Jon.”
“See my man Sanchez any place?” he asked.
“Yeah…” I hesitated. “He’s helping Ian with something.”
“Good.” Jon nodded and moved down the stairs and continued stretching. “I want my men pulling their weight around here.”
“I’m sure that they will be fine.”
Doctor Zahn walked out with a cup of something that had steam rolling off of it. She sipped and went over to the porch swing and had a seat. More pleasant greetings were batted about, waking Melissa who joined in. I considered putting the announcement off until after breakfast and quickly decided against it. After all, there was a murderer walking amongst us. Walking around Thalia and Emily. Walking around Melissa.
“Get everybody up and tell them to come down to the picnic grounds,” I announced, climbing to my feet and trying to smooth out the wrinkles that were chiseled into my clothing. I extended a hand to Melissa just as Ian and Sanchez came around the corner and stopped at the foot of the steps looking grim. My hand was slapped away, which shocked me a bit. However, when I turned to Melissa, her glare was fixed on Sanchez as she stood without my assistance. Great, I thought, this is exactly what we don’t need right now. I made a mental note to talk with both of them later.
“What’s up?” Jon asked, catching not only my tone, but everything happening around him.
“Once we’re all together,” I said. I glanced at Dr. Zahn who was also taking everything in with her usual observant eye. She looked from Ian and Sanchez, then back to me. I nodded slightly.
