by Matt Hlinak
“Okay, Mr. Riordan,” Schuler said, swiveling around to face him. “Why is that?”
“Because anyone who finds us is going to die.”
“Because of the virus, right?” she replied with a wry smile.
“I don’t know what it is, but it seems to act like a virus. And I might be a carrier.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Williams said to Schuler. “I really don’t want to hear any more of his bullshit.”
“Sir, please just think about it for a second. Isn’t it an amazing coincidence that your radios and your engine would go out at the same time you found me? Not to mention the dead bodies.”
“There’s nothing coincidental about the dead bodies, you creep,” Williams snapped. “There’s not a doubt in mind that you are responsible, and I’m going to make sure you fry for this. You understand?”
“Okay,” Culann responded. “Let’s say I did kill them. That I somehow convinced four people to get in two separate rowboats and row halfway out to sea. Then they all died at once. I’m unarmed, and there is no blood. How did I do it? It would have to be something biological, something you wouldn’t want innocent people exposed to.”
“Four people?” Schuler asked.
“There’s one more, but she fell out of the boat.”
“Enough,” Williams shouted. “If you say another word, I’m tossing you over the side.”
“Lighten up, Williams,” Schuler said. “We’ve got an hour or two to kill before someone finds us. Just humor the guy.”
“I’m sorry, Schuler. I just don’t find mass-murdering child rapists all that funny.”
“Fine, but I’m going to talk to him. Like I said, we’re going to be here for a while.”
“Suit yourself,” Williams said, turning his back to Culann.
“So, Mr. Riordan,” Schuler said, “you think you’ve been exposed to something biological? Something that has also disabled our boat?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve got to believe me that there is something serious going on here. It’s not just these four people who are dead, it’s the whole town.”
Williams raised his binoculars to his eyes and stared across the water.
“Take a look at this.”
Schuler turned away from Culann and peered through her binoculars. She rose slowly without taking her gaze from Pyrite’s shoreline.
“That’s definitely another body,” she said. “What’s with all the dogs?”
“This thing doesn’t seem to affect them,” Culann replied. “But it killed all of the other animals on the island.”
“All right, you crazy son of a bitch,” Williams said, whirling around, “what did you do to these people?”
“I didn’t do anything, at least not on purpose. I think it was the orb.”
“The orb?” Williams said with a snort. “This guy’s nuts.”
“You can believe that if you want to,” Culann said, “but you have to understand that it would be very dangerous to bring anyone near me.”
Schuler turned slowly back towards him.
“What about us?” she asked. “Are we in danger?”
Culann sighed and said, “You’ll probably be dead by morning.”
“Is that so?” Williams said, drawing his gun. “Then what’s to stop me from killing you right now?”
“Put it away, Williams. Maybe he’s full of shit. Maybe there’s a cure.”
“This sicko killed a whole town and now he says he’s poisoned us. I say it’s self-defense.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, all I do know is that he raped a little girl.”
“It was consensual, and she was sixteen,” Culann said.
“My daughter is sixteen.”
Williams pointed his gun at Culann’s chest. Culann had lived his entire life without ever having a firearm pointed at him. He was now looking down a gun barrel for the second time in twenty-four hours. It did not seem to him to be the kind of experience a person could ever get used to.
“Knock it off,” Schuler said. “If we really are going to die, wouldn’t you rather meet your maker with a clean conscience?”
“God would forgive me for ridding the world of this pervert.”
“Maybe, but you’re a good cop, Williams, and you’re not going to stop being a good cop just because you’re about to die.”
“Oh, fuck off, Schuler,” Williams said, sliding the gun into his holster.
“Okay, Mr. Riordan,” Schuler said, “since we’re going to die, what do you propose we do?”
“I don’t know for certain that you’re going to die. I’m still alive, after all. Maybe you’ve got the same immunity I have. But I don’t think we should risk infecting anyone else, which is going to happen sooner or later if we stay out here. I think we should row back to Pyrite. We can quarantine ourselves there and maybe figure this thing out.”
“What do you think, Williams?”
“I think you should have let me shoot him.”
“Come on,” Schuler said, “there’s obviously something going on here. If he’s right, I don’t want anyone else’s life on my conscience. Let’s row to the island and wait this thing out.”
“Did you ever consider the possibility that this might be a trap?” he countered.
“We have a fugitive here, and you want to take his advice and go to some secluded island where his accomplices are lying in wait for us?”
“Yes, if the alternative means infecting innocent people with this virus.”
“I’m still going to shoot this pervert.”
2
Rowing back to Pyrite took most of the afternoon. They didn’t want to leave Culann’s rowboat floating out in the middle of the channel to attract attention, so they tied it to the back of their vessel where they could tow it with minimal drag. They then needed to get Alistair’s boat. The police boat contained two long emergency oars they could use, but Culann presented a bit of a problem. If Williams and Schuler both rowed, they would have to turn their backs on Culann. Neither officer was willing to take this risk with a fugitive, even one whose hands were cuffed behind his back.
The only other option, then, was to have Culann take one of the oars while one of the officers watched him. But giving Culann an oar, which could potentially be used as a weapon, was not something either officer felt very good about. Williams reluctantly released the handcuffs and then immediately reattached them with Culann’s hands bound in front of his body. The cuffs hadn’t been loose before, but Williams cinched them as tightly as possible, cutting the flow of blood to Culann’s hands.
“If he so much as farts, shoot him,” Williams said.
Culann and Williams clumsily rowed the large boat over to Alistair’s rowboat while Schuler kept her eyes on Culann and her hand on her weapon. As they pulled up alongside, Williams eased himself down onto the rowboat. He nearly capsized trying to pull LaTonya’s body aboard. He rested her in a bent-over seated position across from Alistair and Julia, and then tied a line to the bow of the rowboat and climbed back onto the police boat.
They resumed rowing, and the boat lurched towards the shore with the two rowboats in its wake. Culann’s arms were tired from rowing out to sea the first time, and he struggled to keep up with Williams. In order to keep the boat from turning, Williams would periodically stop rowing to let Culann catch up. During these pauses, Williams would glare at Culann, who felt like a greenhorn all over again. It was slow going, but Culann was encouraged by the barking of the dogs of Pyrite, which grew in volume and intensity as the boat drew nearer to shore.
When they reached the pier, Williams grabbed Culann by the arm and yanked him over the side. Culann stumbled onto the planks, catching himself with his cuffed hands.
The gash in his hand throbbed. Williams jerked him to his feet and marched him to shore with Schuler trailing behind.
Schuler and Williams hunched over to inspect Margaret’s body. The dogs churned around them. Williams tried to push
them away at first, but quickly gave up. The dogs seemed to Culann to have hopelessly contaminated the crime scene. The officers seemed to reach the same conclusion as they arose shaking their heads.
“How many more bodies are here?” Schuler asked.
“Thirty-two were dead this morning,” Culann replied, “and nine more died later in the day, including the three in the rowboat and Constance.”
Just saying her name caused an odd stirring in Culann’s stomach. It wasn’t grief and it wasn’t lust. It was more a simple appreciation for the grace and beauty that had briefly been in his presence. He didn’t understand the feeling and figured he wouldn’t be in Alaska right now if he did.
“I don’t know,” Schuler said. “I’m starting to think he’s telling the truth.”
Williams chewed on his lip for a moment and then said, “You may be right, but he’s still a disgusting piece of human garbage.”
“I think we need to trust him, at least as far as this virus is concerned.”
Williams turned his back and started walking towards Alistair’s bar. Culann stayed as close as possible to Schuler in case Williams decided to pull his gun out again.
Schuler stood still and watched her partner stalk off. The pack of dogs swirled around the two of them; none followed after Williams.
3
The three sat around the table in the bar. Alphonse rested his chin on Culann’s lap, but Culann didn’t pet him since he’d been warned about keeping his still-shackled hands in plain sight. Williams and Schuler each drank a beer from the rapidly warming cooler, which no longer received power from the conked-out generator. Culann eyed the beer bottles hungrily. He didn’t dare risk Williams’ ire by asking for one.
The officers had completed their sweep of the island and confirmed Culann’s casualty figures. As the number of dead bodies found increased, the level of conversation decreased. Williams hadn’t said a word in over thirty minutes.
Then he said, “We really are going to die.”
Schuler nodded. Culann doubted the two had much time left. He started thinking about what was going to happen after they were gone. He would be alone with thirty-nine dead bodies and innumerable dogs. His first order of business would be to do something with the bodies before the dogs started eating them.
“The bodies,” he said. “What should we do with them?”
“We’ll have to burn them,” Schuler said. “We can’t dig that many graves.”
“We can’t burn them,” Williams replied. “They’re evidence.”
“Evidence of what?” she asked. “Besides, anyone who comes around to dust for fingerprints is as dead as we are.”
“Well, if we’re dead anyway, the last thing I want to do is spend my final minutes dragging corpses around.”
“We can’t just leave them to rot in the sun.”
“Why not? You think anyone is going to give us a decent Christian burial when we’re gone?”
“I may not be able to bury you,” Culann said, “but I’m not just going to leave you.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Williams said. “After I’m dead, a child molester is going to defile my body. I’d rather you just let me rot.”
“Fine,” Schuler said, “he’ll let you rot. I’m going to help him deal with the rest of these people.”
Williams stayed in the bar while Culann and Schuler went to work. They figured the simplest way to deal with so many bodies was to put them all in one of the shacks and set it on fire. They would need to choose one away from the view of the mainland to keep from luring anyone over. The problem was that the cabins furthest from mainland were surrounded by trees which could easily catch fire and set the whole island ablaze.
“What about your boat?” Culann asked. “We could probably stack everyone
onboard and light it on fire, like a Viking funeral.”
Schuler laughed and covered her mouth. Then she pulled her hand away and laughed again.
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with a little laughing,” she said, “since it’s going to be my ass on top of the pile.”
By the time the sun dipped near the horizon, which is as low as it would get for another few weeks, Schuler and Culann had loaded fifteen dead bodies, including Frank’s, into the police boat. Culann looked one last time at his cousin’s serene face before covering it with another body. They’d found an old wheelbarrow that made the task a little easier, although Culann couldn’t push it because he still had his hands cuffed.
Schuler said that she didn’t see the harm in letting him go, but Williams was liable to shoot him if his hands were free. Culann agreed with her.
“Do you think he might shoot me anyway?”
“I don’t think so, but who knows what a man’s capable of doing his last night on Earth.”
“Maybe I should keep my distance. Do you think it would be okay if I slept over at Frank’s place?”
“I don’t care. Which one is Frank’s?”
“The one on the end,” he said, pointing. “There’s some beer left in the refrigerator if you’d like to join me for a nightcap.”
“Drinking with a fugitive in my custody breaks about fifteen different regulations, but I don’t see the harm, under the circumstances. I might as well try to enjoy what’s left of my life.”
The two trudged down the road. Alphonse kept close to Culann while the other dogs orbited around. Culann held the door to the shack open for Schuler and Alphonse before squeezing himself in ahead of the other dogs who all surged forward to join them.
A floppy-eared pitbull and a big collie that looked like Lassie snuck in before Culann could wedge the door shut, but he managed to keep the bulk of the pack from overwhelming them inside. The others howled at the front door for a few minutes before plopping down in a great drowsy mass out front.
Schuler sat on Frank’s couch while Culann grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. He handed one to Schuler with his hands still bound.
“You want those off now?” she asked.
Culann glanced out the window to make sure Williams wasn’t around. When he saw that it was clear, he held his arms out. Schuler drew a small key from her belt and released the handcuffs. Two red lines rang his wrists.
“Free at last,” he said with a smirk.
“For now,” she said. “You know that if me or Williams lives through the night, we’re going to have to take you in. Plus, we didn’t check in like we were supposed to.
They are probably already sending more officers to look for us. It won’t be long before they think to look here.”
“Then they’re going to die, too. How can we stop them from coming?”
“We can’t. There’s a warrant out for your arrest, and this place is your last known whereabouts. The fact that two cops disappeared trying to find you is not exactly going to take the heat off. They’re probably going to send in the FBI or maybe the National Guard.”
“Jesus. I can’t be responsible for that many people dying.”
“You’re awfully worried about other people for a sex offender,” she said with a chuckle.
Culann had had enough of these types of jokes over the last few weeks, so he turned away from Schuler and sipped his beer.
“Lighten up, Mr. Riordan. Can’t you at least humor a dying girl?”
“Okay, fine. Just to be clear, I’m not a child molester and I’m not a pervert. I exercised some bad judgment with a girl who was sixteen.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hell, sixteen-year-olds are legal in Alaska. You should have just done it up here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But isn’t Alaska the place you go after you screw up?”
“For some, I suppose. I was born here.”
“Fair enough. What about your parents? Were they running from something?”
“Probably,” she said. “I never met my dad, but I don’t imagine he was particularly law-abiding. He dragged my mom up here and then split about a month after I was born.”
>
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I got over it a long time ago. At this point, I’m a little more worried about dying.”
“You don’t seem that worried.”
“Now that we’re sitting still, it’s sinking in. It was better when we were hauling carcasses all over the island.”
“Maybe you won’t die. I can’t be the only one who’s immune.”
“Maybe,” she said. “You got any more beer?”
He sprang up and went to the kitchen. The dogs followed him. When he returned with two beers, they lay back down on the floor.
“So what is it about young girls, Mr. Riordan?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“It was just one time with one girl,” he said.
“Okay, but is that the only time you ever thought about it?”
“No.”
“So what is it? You got a problem with girls your own age?”
“No, it’s not like that. I’ve dated plenty of women my own age. I don’t think it’s really got anything to do with how old they are. I just seem to have a hard time controlling myself around beautiful women. And some of them just happen to be a little young, that’s all.”
“You having a hard time controlling yourself around me?” she asked with a grin.
“No.”
“So am I ugly then?”
“No, not at all. I was just—”
“I’m just playing with you,” Schuler said, laughing. “It helps me keep my mind off the situation.”
Culann turned and faced her. Schuler was squat and muscular with thick hips; she had a cop’s body. But there was beauty in her wide brown eyes and mischievous smile.
He realized that he may never again get a chance to be with a woman again, and found himself excited by Schuler’s strong femininity. He leaned in to kiss her.
She cuffed him hard across the jaw.
“I think you got the wrong idea, Mr. Riordan.”
“Sorry, I just figured that you might want some companionship, under the circumstances.”
“That’s a very generous offer, but doing it with a sex offender in a dead man’s shack with three smelly hound-dogs staring at me is not exactly every girl’s fantasy.”
