The Corpse Whisperer

by H. R. Boldwood

  Sweet Jesus.

  “Didn’t you tie her up like I told you to?”

  “No. I… I just didn’t think she’d turn, Nighthawk, since the Z-virus has never been transmitted by injection. I was sure she’d been slipped some kind of poison. I didn’t see the need for restraints. For God’s sake,” he whined. “She’s a corpse, damn it. Lloyd opened the drawer this morning to get her body ready for release, and she bolted like a one-legged cat in a swimming pool.”

  Freaking nimrod. I told him to put her down.

  After quick calls to Rico and Nonnie, I got dressed and said goodbye to Headbutt and Kulu. They knew the routine. Headbutt returned to his post on the floor vent, while Kulu hung upside down from the bars of her cage and gave me the stink eye. I’d like to say they looked sad at my impending departure, but I think they were secretly counting the minutes until Nonnie-time.

  I threw on my Terminus BBQ T-shirt, tucked my Ka-bar knife into its sheath, and put Hawk in my shoulder holster. The situation only involved one deadhead, and Miriam at that, but you can never have too many weapons.

  When I pulled up to the curb outside of the city morgue, Rico had already arrived. The noise of Miriam’s zombie-fueled fury carried all the way to the street.

  Doc Blanchard saw us through the lobby doors and let us inside.

  A hulk with red Brillo-pad hair stood beside Doc, dwarfing his six-foot frame. The guy’s lab coat was at least two sizes too small, its sleeves ending about mid-forearm. He wore black glasses with coke-bottle lenses and had translucent, fish-belly skin.

  “This is Lloyd, my morgue attendant,” Doc said.

  Lloyd wore a creepy lopsided grin that gave him the look of a serial killer.

  “You enjoying this a little too much, Lloyd?” I asked, as I barged past him.

  The morgue office had a glass window in the door with the word Medical Examiner painted across it. We stood in the vestibule looking through the window and watched Miriam go full-on zombie.

  Freshies are crazy unpredictable, but they can still communicate. Even better, they can’t lie. We needed to get Miriam under control and ask her a few questions before we put her down.

  “You ready? On three,” I said, looking at Rico.

  I drew Hawk from my holster. “Unlock the door, Doc. Then go wait in the lobby. We’ve got this.”

  Doc almost had a coronary. “You can’t just fire a nine millimeter into her brain and splatter it like a piñata. I’ve got other bodies in there. We’ll end up with cross-contamination. It’ll be my ass.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I said, giving him my coldest Allie-eye. “We need to play twenty questions with Meatbag Miriam before we put her down, and you, who didn’t take care of her when you had the chance, want me to kill her in a plastic bubble. Any other special requests?”

  “Oh! Oh!” Lloyd blurted. “Can I put her down? Please?”

  “No,” the rest of us said, in unison.

  Jade Chen raced up the sidewalk to the lobby doors and banged on the glass. “Channel Ten News Team. We’re covering this story. Let us in.”

  I spun toward Rico. “Oh, my God! You told her we were here?”

  “No,” he said, jerking like I’d slapped him into next Tuesday. “I didn’t tell her. I swear.”

  “Then how could she possibly know we were here? We haven’t even gotten inside, yet.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”

  “Forget about her. We’ve got work to do.” I looked at Doc. “Do you have any junk food around here?”

  “I have a bag of tortilla chips in my lunch,” Lloyd said. “But you’ll have to eat them in the cafeteria.” He glowered at Doc. “We’re not allowed to eat in the lab.”

  Doc sighed, and shook his head. “Get your chips, Lloyd.”

  Lloyd hurried down the hallway toward the employees’ lounge.

  “Are all the other bodies in drawers?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Doc said, nodding.

  “Anything in the cooler?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Okay, I’ve got a plan,” I said, as Doc unlocked the morgue door with his thumbprint.

  Lloyd sprinted back down the hall with his tortilla chips.

  “Go on outside, Doc. But leave him.” I ran my eyes up to the top of Lloyd’s head. “I can use Igor here inside the lab, to help keep Miriam under control.”

  I waved goodbye to Jade with my middle finger, and peered inside the morgue door window.

  “Congratulations, dude,” I said, giving Lloyd a pat on the back. “You’ve been promoted to zombie wrangler.”

  Miriam was facing the back of the room, slurping the innards off a pair of rib spreaders.

  I eased open the door and crept inside, followed by Lloyd and Rico, who locked the door behind us. Then I knocked on the front of the cold storage unit to get her attention.

  “Hey, Miriam,” I yelled, as she gnawed on the rib spreaders. “Wassup, girl?”

  She whirled around and issued a series of snarls and grunts, then began to advance.

  “We’ve got a few questions. Can you help us out?”

  She lowered her head and growled.

  Rico pulled Lloyd behind a gurney and stared at me in disbelief. “This? This is your big plan? What could possibly go wrong?”

  I took out my Ka-bar knife and held it by my side. Sweat trickled from my temples, as I joined Rico and Lloyd behind the gurney.

  Lloyd pushed me away. “Get your own gurney, lady. This one’s full.”

  “Careful, Lloyd, if she doesn’t bite you, I might.” I waved at Miriam to get her to focus on me. “Who killed you, Ms. Miller?”

  She lashed out like a psychotic, flesh-eating windmill, whipping the Ka-bar out of my hand. It skittered across the floor and slid deep beneath the stainless-steel sink.

  Hells bells. Things were getting out of hand.

  “Abort! Abort!” I yelled.

  Lloyd pulled the gurney backwards, sweeping us out of her reach, but Miriam followed. As we steered the gurney past the cold storage unit, I reached over and yanked open one of the drawers.

  Miriam was running full speed, and fell into the open drawer.

  “Plan B,” I said, slamming the drawer closed. “Igor, give me the chips.”

  “Now?” he asked.

  “No. Like in ten or fifteen minutes, you know, when you go on break. Yes, now! Hand them over, Igor.”

  “Call me Lloyd.”

  Rico grabbed the chips and tossed them to me.

  “Here’s the deal,” I said. “Give me some room. I’m going to open the drawer and lead Miriam into the cooler with these chips. Rico, you’re going to have to ask your questions quick. When she and I make it inside, shut the door behind us.”

  I looked at Rico and Lloyd, and sighed. “If this goes south, it’ll go quick. Rico, pull your gun. I know what Doc said about cross-contamination. Only shoot as a last resort.”

  I locked eyes with Lloyd. “You grab a scalpel off that tray on the sink. Do not move toward her. Only use it in self-defense. You got that, Igor?”

  He nodded and tried to pick up the scalpel, but fumbled it. I closed my eyes and tried to think happy thoughts.

  “Miriam,” I called, knocking on the drawer. “Oh, Miriam?”

  She growled and banged against the inside of the cold storage unit.

  “Three…two…one,” I said, yanking open the drawer.

  Miriam popped her head up like a meatbag meerkat.

  Rico raised his gun and spooked her.

  She leapt off out of drawer and onto the gurney, coming face to face with Rico and Lloyd.

  “Nighthawk,” Rico yelled, as he and Lloyd dove behind another gurney. “A little help?”

  “Miriam! Miriam. Over here.”

  She turned toward the sound of my voice, and I held up the bag of chips. “Come and get ‘em, girl. That’s it.”

  For each step she advanced, I moved one step closer to the cooler.

  Rico pac
ed alongside her, a couple of arm lengths away. “Keep her steady, Nighthawk.”

  Miriam swiped at him and growled.

  He held out the photo of BOLO Guy and asked, “Is this the man who killed you?”

  “Yesss,” she hissed, snatching at the picture.

  I waved the chips in her face. “Do you know his name? Or who he worked for?”

  “No.” Miriam’s eyes were glued to the chips.

  She snarled, so I threw some on the floor in front of her, and asked, “What was your killer after?”

  Half-chewed tortilla chips spewed from her mouth, like cracker crumbs. “To know where Leo is.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  She shook her head.

  “Here, Miriam,” I coaxed. “Have some more chips. Mmm… Salty.”

  I threw a handful in front of the cooler door. When she dove for them, I was suddenly struck by how mortified the prissy Ms. Miller would have been to find herself diving for food, and spraying chip bits when she spoke.

  The brain bitch suddenly woke up and screamed about how wildly inappropriate that was, even if it was a freaking hilarious visual, and then she shamed me into focusing on the task at hand.

  “We’re about to run out of food. Is there anything else you want to ask her? Maybe her sign? If she likes rain or long walks on the beach? Anything?”

  Rico scowled. “Nope. Got it.”

  I lured her into the cooler, then nodded at Rico. He closed the door behind us.

  There we stood, face to face. It wasn’t the best time to remember that my Ka-bar knife was somewhere under the stainless-steel sink.

  I glanced around the cooler. It was maybe eight-feet by eight-feet, tops, and completely empty. Not a weapon in sight, and my back pressed against the far wall.

  Sorry, Doc.

  I pulled Hawk and looked into Miriam’s eyes. “You never did like me, but you didn’t deserve this. Rest in peace, Miriam.”

  She reached out and grabbed my left arm, ripping the sleeve of my T-shirt to shreds.

  My arm jerked as I pulled the trigger, and the bullet struck her neck, spraying flesh and blood across the cooler.

  But Miriam wasn’t finished just yet. She whirled back around, and I squeezed the trigger again, hitting her point blank in the forehead.

  The back half of her head exploded like a watermelon, bathing the cooler in a random burst of bloody chum. Bits of zushi plastered themselves to the ceiling and walls.

  Rico threw open the cooler door and took it all in, silent, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. He finally said something, though I had no idea what it was.

  “What?” I yelled. “I can’t hear you. That was very loud.”

  Brain bits began to fall from the ceiling, willy-nilly like tiny flesh bombs, pelting me and splattering onto the floor.

  Lloyd took one look at the mess, shook his head and walked away.

  I slid a couple of zushi-covered fingers inside the pocket of my khakis and fished out my cellphone. Despite slipping off the keypad a couple of times, my fingers finally dialed the number to Splatz.

  “Hey, Jimmy. It’s Allie. I can’t hear right now, so you need to listen. I’ve got a rush job for you at the morgue. Do me a favor, send the bill to the attention of Doctor Blanchard at the M.E.’s Office. Give him my discount. Okay? You’re the best, dude. Thanks.”

  Doc burst through the doors, his hands to the heavens, with Jade and her cameraman, Rip, close at his heels.

  “I… You… Damn it, Nighthawk. What’d you do to my cooler?”

  “Get her out of here!” I screamed, running toward Jade.

  That’s when I noticed that Rip was filming.

  “Give me that camera, peckerhead!” I changed direction, and dove across the room at him.

  Tiny bits of Miriam sprang from me, soaring like tiny missiles through the air. And Rip captured it all, in glorious technicolor.

  Rico got to Rip first, and snatched the camera out of his hands.

  “Hey, give that back!” Rip yelled. “That’s property of Channel Ten, damn it!”

  Rico dashed past me to Jade, and took her by the arm. “I don’t know how you found out what was going on here, but right now you’re contaminating a crime scene. Get the hell out of here. Now. We’ll talk later.”

  “We most certainly will,” Jade snipped. “I’m sure Channel Ten’s attorneys will have a lot to say.”

  She stomped out the door with Rip, looking like a kid who’d lost her lollipop.

  But I wasn’t finished with her yet. I tore out the door behind her and Rico chased after me. All set to unload the wrath of Allie on her, I stopped mid-stride, as I watched Jade climb into her black Lexus.

  “Nice car, news hack,” I shouted. Then I turned to Rico. “There’s your tail from the day we took Leo to the safe house.”

  Rico shrugged. “There are a zillion black Lexuses. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  Doc, who joined us at the curb, clearly wasn’t ready to drop the issue of the damage to his cooler. “I told you, no guns. I’m going to take so much shit on this—”

  “No, you aren’t,” I said, massaging my ringing ears. “The bodies are in the drawers and I’ve got Splatz on the way over to clean up the cooler. Problem solved.”

  “Why the hell did you have to shoot her?” he asked. “Now, I have to wait for the cleaners. I’m far enough behind as it is.”

  “Because my knife slid under your sink somewhere. That’s why. Now I have to crawl under there and find it. I didn’t have anything else to put her down with, Doc. If you’d have listened to me yesterday, and put her down when I told you to, we could have avoided all this.”

  Doc’s face turned a glorious shade of magenta. “Nighthawk, you’re a one-person wrecking crew.”

  “Don’t bother to thank me,” I said, walking back inside to retrieve my knife. “You’ll be getting the bill from Splatz.”

  I’d have given Rico’s left nut to not be the person who had to tell Cap that Miriam didn’t go down like a graceful swan. But since Doc would no doubt be on the phone whining to Cap anytime now, I figured it was best to get out in front of this and spin the situation myself.

  After a quick shower and a change of clothes from my go bag, I joined Rico.

  We sat across from Cap in his office, while I explained what happened. As if that weren’t bad enough, that squirrelly little janitor, Ottis, picked the middle of my one-man show to empty trash cans and tidy up the place.

  It’s always nice to have an audience when you’re getting reamed.

  Cap’s face went white. “What do you mean, Miriam turned? How could that happen? She wasn’t bitten.”

  “According to Doc, Miriam was injected with something. It must have been the virus. Testing has never shown the virus to be transmitted by injection before, but we know the virus is changing—take the sighted zombies, for example.”

  “Jesus. Poor Miriam,” Cap whispered, staring at the photo of his wife on his desk.

  “There’s more,” I said, squirming in my chair.

  Rico pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned softly.

  “When Doc told me Miriam had been injected yesterday, I suggested that he…disconnect her brain stem…right then and there, but he didn’t have his tox screen results. He figured since the Z-virus had never been transmitted through injection before, it was more likely she was injected with a known toxic agent. He was afraid of repercussions with the ACLU. Against my best advice, the M.E.’s office didn’t use sufficient precautions when they put Miriam in the drawer. We all know what happened next...”

  Cap waited for me to continue.

  “She went batshi—she was very unpredictable, moving randomly, flailing her arms. She smacked my hand and my knife flew under the sink. We lured her into the cooler. There weren’t any other weapons within reach. So, I had to use my gun.”

  Cap closed his eyes. “I see. It sounds like you didn’t have a choice, really.”

  I felt sweat pop out on my upper lip. �
��That’s true, Cap. But there’s a tiny bit more.”

  He leaned forward in his chair, and folded his hands beneath his chin. “Do tell.”

  “We were in the cooler when I shot her, and the…ah…force of the nine millimeter made a…mess. But Splatz is already on it. We’ll have Doc back in business, in no time. The mess was contained to the cooler. Mostly,” I said, remembering my mad dash to annihilate Rip and his camera.

  Cap leaned back and muttered, “And where is Splatz sending the bill?”

  “To the M.E.’s office,” I said not missing a beat.

  “Good. Let it come out of their budget.”

  I almost asked about where to send my bill, but given his reaction, I decided to send it on to the M.E.’s office, too. I don’t do this shit for free, you know.

  When we left Cap’s office, I felt a little better about the morning’s events. Rico went to check his messages and I found an empty desk to call Sandy. But I got his voicemail again, so I transferred over to his secretary.

  “Hi Ilse, it’s Allie. Is Sandy around? I called him yesterday, but he never called back.”

  “No, I’m sorry. He hasn’t been in since the night he took the tissue samples. That’s not like him, really. He usually lets us know when he’s working from home.”

  “Did he run the tests yet?”

  “No. The samples are still in the freezer.”

  “I really need to talk to him. My bite victim here is showing increased symptoms between doses. I think his meds might need to be adjusted.”

  “Hold on, Allie. Let me ask Dr. Christian. He’ll know. Be right back.”

  Ilse placed me on hold and little Allie went ballistic, screeching at me that Sandy should have called back by now. Something wasn’t right.

  Then Ilse picked up the line. “Hello, Allie? Dr. Christian said to up the dosage by one mil. Hopefully, that’ll help. If not, let us know.”

  “Thanks, Ilse. Nice talking to you. Have Sandy give me a yell.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up with a case of the heebie-jeebies, and started to fill Rico in, when Weston charged up the aisle.

  “Where the hell have you been, dude? I’ve been looking all over for you. A beat cop found your BOLO suspect in Miriam’s death. You’d better sit down for this one. It ain’t looking good.”