Glistening Haven: A Shape Shifting Dystopian Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  “We won’t know that for sure unless we can get in there. If there’s enough there left for us to gather evidence from.”

  Behind her, Jenna heard the footsteps of her crew. They were silent, out of respect for Travis. He was a good leader, a fair boss, and on occasion a drinking buddy. They were with him only a few hours ago. If only he had taken them up on the offer for steaks and drinks. Now Jenna may never find out what the trouble was he was having at home, but maybe it didn’t matter. Or, maybe she thought, maybe now it mattered more than anything.

  “We should start canvassing the area. Talk to the glistenings across the street. See what they heard.”

  “Right,” Dirk said dryly, “because they’re going to want to talk to us. They won’t tell us anything. They’ll stick together just like they always do.”

  “We have officers for that, Jenna,” George said. “Not that I’m not grateful for the offer.”

  “Your officers are busy. We can bang on a few doors. It’s what we’re good at.”

  “Besides,” Jameson said without a sense of humor, “a lot of these guys know us. They might be just scared enough to answer.”

  George nodded. “Just stick to protocol. Inside the Haven we have to keep everything above board. No crazy antics.”

  Jenna would have riled him up if under different circumstances. This time she just nodded and stepped away. The diminishing flames danced behind her. Jenna stepped off the curb and then paused, glancing at the homes. All the lights were off and everything felt quiet. They were probably shuddering behind their curtains.

  She glanced to each of her crew. “Three houses, three of us. Should we arm wrestle for them?”

  “Why don’t we just go in order of importance?” Dirk asked. “Me, Jameson, you.” He stormed off across the street and Jenna watched him go.

  Jameson gave her a pointed look. “Have you considered taking up yoga as a relaxation technique instead?”

  Glowering, she shoved him toward the direction of the middle house before trudging along to hers. The window was shattered and Jenna’s senses heightened. She knocked on the door, a hand on the holster of her gun. When there was no answer, she knocked hard “Police! Open up or I will take down this door!”

  Jenna waited, took a deep breath, and kicked in the door. According to police procedure, she didn’t need to issue the warning, but had to stop short of hurting the glistenings unless they made an offensive move against her. She stepped inside the house and it smelled like coffee and apple pie.

  Taking a step into the living room she put her hand on top of the old television unit. It was one of those refurbished models where it looked more like a cabinet or a dresser than a flat panel monitor. The top was still warm. Glancing around she saw a mailbox beside a recliner; there was the window-smashing culprit. Jenna relaxed her hand that hovered above her weapon. “Hear me out,” she bellowed loudly. “Show yourselves in ten and answer a few basic questions. Force me to come find you and we’ll do it in Outpost.”

  Jenna knew that most glistenings conveniently forgot about the place’s existence, but with a reminder they’d shudder in fear at just the mention of the place. “One…two…” Her voice trailed off as upstairs a dog whined and then the floorboards squeaked above her. Glancing at the ceiling, she listened and waited for the residents of the home to show themselves.

  They turned out to be two old end-stage-of-their-lives glistenings, which meant they were probably older than Jenna’s great-grandmother. They looked innocent enough in their matching slippers and robes. Hell, Jenna thought the husband had more hair than his wife. Both of them wore glasses large enough to magnify their pupils. “Oh look, Geoff, we have a guest. How nice.”

  “Would you like some tea or coffee?” Geoff’s voice rasped, like he needed a glass of water to clear something out of his throat. “It’s late and it might keep you up, but we have decaf.”

  “And cookies,” his wife smiled. “Fresh-baked this morning.”

  Jenna resisted the urge to sigh, slam them against the wall, and aim her pistol at their heads. “I just have a few questions, so cut the homemaker crap. I’m Officer Morgan. I’m sure you know who lived,” she caught herself, going pale, “lives across the street.”

  Geoff exchanged glances with his wife. “We know, but we’d really like to do this over tea—”

  “Did you see anything shortly after eight p.m.? Noises? Anything?”

  “Well we were watching Wheel of Fortune. It was a new episode and Vanna looked just so pretty!”

  Jenna was getting tired of their act. They had to realize that a new episode of anything they watched hadn’t been made in nearly one hundred years. She kept her anger in check by biting on the inside of her cheek. “Go on.”

  “There was an explosion across the street. Mailbox came straight through our window and corked little Sparky right in the head!” Geoff laughed. “So we went outside to see what was going on, after we called the police.”

  “You called the police?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I just said that. Are your ears okay, child?”

  “Fine,” Jenna huffed. “Did you see anything outside?”

  His wife shrugged. “People. Neighbors from streets over. We all heard it, felt it. We were worried.” Her face was cast down, far off. Jenna realized she was sad. Maybe she shouldn’t have felt bad for her, but she was beginning to.

  “Did you see anyone sneaking away from the house? Anyone strange who didn’t blend in with anyone else?”

  She shook her head, hands gripping each other in front of her. Jenna didn’t believe her. “What are you afraid of?” She asked the elderly woman.

  Her eyes grew large. “Me? Nothing. It’s just not often that a police officer bangs down your door so late. It has me, kind of afraid, don’t you know?”

  Jenna thought that was probably true. “Law is law. I have every right to go where I want and I want to be here. I want you to answer my questions. Honestly. If not, better grab your coat.”

  Geoff put his arm around his wife’s trembling shoulders. “Now, Martha. Just tell her what you told me before we came back inside.”

  His wife’s nod was slight enough to almost escape Jenna’s interest. “Two dark men. They were already away from our street. On the corner.”

  “Dark men? Dark how?” Jenna asked.

  “Their clothing was dark. I couldn’t see their faces, like they wore masks.”

  Glistenings could see better at night than most could during the day. If Martha hadn’t seen their faces, there was good reason for it. “Did you see which way they went?”

  Martha was quiet as she considered this. “They got into a black van. I didn’t see where it went. We all retreated home. Back into our houses.”

  “Why?” Jenna demanded.

  “We didn’t want to be outside when the police showed,” Geoff whispered.

  She could understand that and didn’t need a further explanation. If she was going to solve this thing fast, she needed to get outside and find that van. Jenna turned from them. She didn’t thank them or apologize for breaking down the door; it was just the way it was. Outside she crossed the street, with no sign of her crew yet, and saw the flames were out. Now they were working on removing the wreckage, looking for the bodies of Travis and his family.

  Jenna felt manic. She crossed her arms and paced, her face drawn into a narrow pout. Dirk came across the street with Jameson at his side. Jenna couldn’t read Dirk’s face while she listened to their reports. They almost matched hers exactly, except the absence of the mailbox and Wheel of Fortune; theirs were watching Jeopardy.

  “Mine saw the black figures too,” she said.

  “What’s this mean?” Jameson asked. “Except that again I’m going to be disqualified tomorrow from my Xtreme Ironing League.”

  Jenna ignored his humor. “What they’re talking about goes outside the scope of glistening mischief. They went stealth, they wanted to remain hidden.”

  “That explosion
couldn’t have been just arson,” Dirk agreed, but his tone was distant. He stood to the side, his arms crossed and his body angled away from her.

  “We need to get to the Outpost and review the security footage. Maybe we can see someone going in or that van driving away,” Jenna said.

  “Shouldn’t we report what we found to George?” Dirk asked.

  Jenna silenced both her partners with a single glance. “They’re too busy. They have things to do here. We’re,” she thought about an appropriate term, “freelance.” Jenna took out her phone and scrolled through the alerts from the main office. “Outpost is still in lockdown. No one is leaving or coming in.”

  “If we’re lucky, maybe they’re stuck inside here with us,” Dirk said.

  “If we’re lucky,” Jameson echoed. “Who wants to be stuck in a town with organ-sucking fiends and two murderous exploding bastards?”

  “Welcome to New Haven,” Jenna said dryly. “As horrible as glistenings are, we need to find the guys responsible for this. Travis dedicated his life to bringing order to this place. Let’s see that we keep it. And I call shotgun.”

  Dirk sighed with frustration.

  “Where’s the part where we go in guns blaring?” Jameson asked.

  “Not this time,” Jenna said as they strolled over to their van.

  “Damn.” Dirk said.

  They were quiet as they rode to the Outpost entrance. The atmosphere was tense, and not just because of Travis. When Jenna tried to make eye contact with Dirk in the mirror, his gaze turned away. So much for a good working relationship. Guess she screwed that too.

  When they got to Outpost the guards blocked the entrance. They waved their arms and shook their heads to get them to stop.

  Jenna’s brow furrowed. She slid from the van and jogged over to them. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “No one gets in. Laurel’s orders.”

  Laurel, the Chief’s second-in-command.

  Jenna’s blood pressure skyrocketed and her face filled in to match her hair. “Do you know what happened? You know what we’re looking into?’

  “Laurel warned us you’d try to play that card. Look, Morgan, we’re all in knots over the chief and his family, but you’re not welcome here tonight. And if Laurel gets her way, you won’t be welcome tomorrow either.”

  Jenna sucked on her bottom lip and her face cringed with anger. The only thing on her mind was avenging the Chief. “I’ll give her tonight, but tomorrow I’m coming back. I’m just as much as part of this force as the next person.”

  “To the chief, maybe. But not to the rest of us. We’ll never forget what you did, Jenna.” The officer turned away, ending the conversation.

  Jenna wasn’t one to regret her choices, but right then she did.

  Chapter Ten Susan Monroe

  By eight-thirty, news about the fire at Chief Reynolds’s home reached every corner of New Haven 56. Susan and Jeff had a few friends plus their new neighbors over for blueberry crumble cake served with coffee. It kept their nerves in check and passed the time. Almost too quickly, Susan thought as she glanced at her watch and saw it was nearly ten. Where was Jake already? Once the dishes were stowed out of sight in the dishwasher, she stepped into the living room.

  Marie was in her pajamas and curled up on the rug close to the television watching an episode of Barney Miller. Normally Susan wouldn’t let her watch such gritty television, but after the crazy night she thought they all deserved a little peace to do what they wanted. On the porch, she found Jeff sitting on the railing and stargazing.

  Stepping beside him, she caught his eye and they held hands. “It’s quiet,” she said.

  Jeff nodded. “It’s nice to just have a few minutes of peace before bed, you know? The new neighbors are nice.” His voice was strained, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, but Susan could see it in his eyes.

  “We should have a neighborhood barbecue soon. A little meet-and-greet.” She gave a laugh, but her body was rigid.

  He kissed the back of her hand. “You’ve always been the only welcoming committee this place needs. I love your tender side.”

  “I’m all tender,” she said with a slight laugh. “Do you think—do you think we’ll be all right?”

  Jeff slid off the railing and kissed her forehead. “We’ll be fine, but we can’t—can’t talk about it, Susan.”

  She knew that, but her chest tightened anyway. “Jake isn’t back yet. I’m worried.”

  “He’s just being a boy. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow over breakfast.” His arm went across her shoulder. “Join me in bed?”

  A bashful blush crept across her cheeks. “Marie is still awake.”

  “We’ll be quiet,” he leaned over to bite her ear, and a shiver went down her spine.

  Going back inside, Jeff slipped up the stairs while Susan went into the living room. She bent to stroke her daughter’s hair and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Do me a favor and go up to bed after this episode. There’s still school tomorrow, young lady.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Marie rolled her eyes, but smiled.

  Heading upstairs, Susan began to unbutton her blouse. For a moment she paused at her son’s darkened bedroom. Something about it felt wrong, out of sorts. But she let it pass and stepped into the master bedroom where, in the dark, her husband waited to surprise her.

  Chapter Eleven Jenna

  In the morning, Jenna learned that the surveillance officers were just a little bit touchy about letting just anyone get access to their vids. It frustrated her to no end, so she stood there, arms crossed, and let Jameson handle the talking. He was using his smooth voice, the one reserved for politicians, and he kept his hands clasped together. As if somehow it made him look more honest than he actually was.

  “We just need to play back the videos from eight p.m. in front of the Chief’s house. I’m sure you want to catch the guys who did this just as much as we do. You can watch with us and when we find something, you can take all the credit.”

  Dirk shot him a glare. He liked nothing better than good cred.

  After much haggling, and the promise of coffee, Jenna and her team were granted entrance into the surveillance room even though their clearance level shouldn’t have allowed them in there.

  Jenna hated combing through evidence, especially the kind that kept her in one place for more than twenty minutes. While her team watched and listened, she headed out into the hall. She swallowed three red capsules and took a sip of water from the fountain.

  The hall was void of people, so she opened the door to security. “Officer Andrews,” she started and marched over to his station. It was a small desk with a mountain of paperwork and series of closed- captioned monitors. Jenna could see the front entrance to New Haven littered with vans and people quarantined inside.

  Andrews was an okay guy and they got along fine. He stood when he saw her. “Hey, any word yet?”

  “No,” Jenna said softly and tried not to think about Travis. “Can I see the manifest on who managed to get out of New Haven? I’ll need the list of who is stuck in the Outpost too.”

  Andrews raised his eyebrows. “Are you leading the investigation? I can’t imagine Laurel handed you the reins.”

  “I was tight with the chief and his family. If you think I’m going to sit on the sidelines and let someone else handle this—”

  Andrews snorted. “Someone else who was also tight with Travis? We’re all loyal to him, Jen. You don’t get to act like you’re the only one.”

  Jenna knew that was true, but she didn’t care. “I was the best investigator this force ever had.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Until you went nuts. They’re never going to let you or your crew lead this investigation.”

  She took a deep breath to contain her anger because Jenna knew in her heart of hearts, he was right. “I couldn’t take being in the city limits for that long. What can I say? Just let me see the damn papers.”

  Andrews’s eyes turned away. “It goes agains
t my better judgment.”

  She poked him in the chest. “Your judgment was always crap.”

  He synched his PDA with hers. In a minute, the records were scrolling on her phone. It looked like nothing out of the ordinary was going on in the quarantine. Except that just ten minutes before the explosion, Rebecca Seers and her van were cleared.

  Jenna didn’t trust her. Anyone who thought glistenings should be given carte blanche to live in the United States, to do whatever they wanted, was dangerous. She wasn’t sure if Rebecca would want to hurt the chief, couldn’t think of how that would help her cause. But Jenna couldn’t rule it out yet.

  According to her PDA, the guard who let Rebecca through was named Jon Vicars. Jenna wasn’t familiar with him, but knew his name. She would head out into quarantine and find him. On her way her earpiece chirped. “Yeah,” Jenna said as she touched her ear.

  From the slow breath on the other end, she knew it was Dirk. “We found something on the video. We saw the van. Jameson is working on getting access to some of the other vids to see where it went. They are probably somewhere still inside the city.”

  “Great,” Jenna stopped moving and slid her back against the wall so two officers could move past her. “What’s with the apprehension then? You sound like someone shot your dog.”

  “The van is near identical to ours. We’re trying to get a shot with the license plate, but so far we’re having no luck.”

  “Well, unless you think Jameson took the van to do something else than Xtreme Ironing, I think we don’t have reason to worry.”

  “You know I do have other interests,” Jameson chimed in. “There’s yoga. The ability to go to my zen place with deep breathing. You should try it, Jen. It might help your anger issues.”

  She scowled. “I thought this was a private conversation.”

  “See? Case in point. Breathe with me, in and out. In—Hey!—”

  “Thanks,” Jenna said quietly.

  “No problem,” Dirk sighed. “Where are you headed?”