Windigo Soul (9 page)

“We heading to his place?”

“Yep. It’s just down the block. Go ahead and call it in.”

Sanderson fitted the radio into his ear. “Command, this is Razorback. Raptor and I are en route to package last known location, how copy?”

“Razorback, Command. Solid copy. We’re still picking up his signal. Package has been stationary and is still home.”

“Roger that,” Sanderson said. Carter pulled up to a four story brownstone and killed the engine.

“Jackal and Scorpion are inbound to your location,” the voice in the radio hissed. “ETA, eight minutes. Wait for them and proceed with caution.”

Sanderson opened the door and turned to Carter. “Let’s go.”

“We’re not waiting for backup?”

“For eight minutes? Fuck that. You’ve seen Scorpion drive, it’ll be more like twenty.”

They entered the building and slowly headed up the stairs, guns drawn. The stairs were creaky and covered in trash, the whole building reeked of what smelled like burnt meat. Kodiak was relatively new to the agency, far below the pay grade Carter and Sanderson enjoyed. Although he probably could have afforded to live in a better building, housing was scarce those days. Even for those who could pay for it.

They reached the second floor landing and Carter pointed down the hall. Held up two fingers, then one. They stood on either side of the door outside apartment twenty-one and Sanderson knocked on the door. Waited.

Sanderson tried the doorknob and it turned freely. He slowly pushed the door open and pointed his weapon into the apartment. The door swung open, it’s squeaky hinges announcing their presence.

Sanderson exchanged looks with Carter and could tell he knew something was wrong as well. The apartment was quiet and felt empty, but something oppressive hung in the air. Sanderson gripped his gun harder and swallowed. From the entry hall, all they could see was a portion of the dim living room beyond.

“Mark? You home, buddy? It’s John and Carter.”

Nothing.

“Marie?”

Like Sanderson, Mark Phillips was one of the few married men in the agency. His wife Marie just delivered their daughter Lauren a few months ago.

They slowly cleared a bedroom and bathroom before reaching the living room. It was dark from the heavy drapes pulled shut, but the two operators could easily make out the bodies in the corner of the room. Marie was on her back, her infant daughter still in her arms. A large pool of blood soaked into the carpeting from the large gash in Marie’s throat. Little Lauren appeared unharmed but her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling above.

“Shit,” Carter hissed.

Sanderson jumped as the radio transceiver in his hear loudly hissed into life. “Razorback, Raptor, SITREP. We’re picking you up inside the building, over.”

“That’s affirm,” Sanderson said. His voice echoed through the apartment. “We couldn’t wait for backup and we’re inside the building. The wife and daughter are dead. No sign of package.”

“Razorback, we are still tracking package inside his apartment. He hasn’t moved for over an hour, over.”

“Negative, command. We cleared every room.”

“Razorback,” Carter called out from the other room. “Come take a look at this.”

Sanderson holstered his gun and found Carter in the kitchen, looking into the sink. A large serrated knife covered in blood rested on the counter top next to a pair of pliers. The bottom of the sink was covered in blood and teeth. Thirty-two of them, to be exact. “Holy shit,” Sanderson whispered.

Carter called it in. “Command, Raptor. Package removed his tracking device and fled the apartment.” He turned to his partner. “Shit, he could be miles from here by now.”

Sanderson looked over his shoulder at the bodies and shook his head. “I don’t know, something doesn’t add up. If he decided to go dark and run, why not take his family?”

“We don’t know for sure he killed them.”

“Come on. You know this is just what it looks like.”

“Shit,” Carter muttered again. “What the fuck are you doing, Mark?”

“I have a hunch he’s still in the building. I’m going to check upstairs, you take the basement and main floor. Jackal and Scorpion should be here by now. Have them circle the block in case he got out. He’s got to be close.”

Carter followed Sanderson out of the apartment and they separated in the hallway. Sanderson knew if they hadn’t already, the local cops would get an APB on Phillips and a hunter drone was already probably circling the area above. Its high res optics could not only perform facial recognition of people on the street, but the thermal sensors could see right through walls all the way down to the basement. If Kodiak was still in the area, he wouldn’t get far.

Sanderson ran up the stairs to the fourth floor and saw daylight streaming in from the roof access hatch at the end of the hall. He slowly climbed the narrow ladder. Kodiak stood on the edge of the roof with his back to him. He held his service weapon loosely in his hand.

Sanderson pointed his gun at him and slowly walked forward. “Kodiak!”

Phillips slowly turned around. His chin and white t-shirt were covered in blood from his mouth. He smiled. “Hey, John. I was hoping it would be one of you guys.”

“Drop the weapon!” Sanderson called out.

Phillips looked down and seemed surprised he was still holding his gun. He let it drop from his fingers. Sanderson slowly approached Phillips, pointing his weapon at his chest.

Phillips held his hands out. “Go ahead. I’m ready.”

“What was that down there, Kodiak? What the hell did you do?”

“What did I do? I saved them, Brother.”

“Saved them from what?”

“From what?” Phillips waved his hands and a joyless laugh escaped his mouth. “From all this. From me. How could I be so stupid and bring a little girl into this mess? Don’t you ever think about stuff like that? What it is we’re really doing?” Tears fell down Phillip’s cheeks. He took a step backward closer to the edge.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You do, though. It’s why you haven’t pulled the trigger yet. What are you waiting for, John? I’m a tier one security risk. An enemy of the State. I signed my own death warrant the moment I told Marie the truth. They heard, of course. They’re always listening, right?”

“Why?” Sanderson shouted. “Goddammit, what were you thinking?”

Phillips shook his head. “I just couldn’t do it anymore. Marie was suspicious. Thought I was cheating on her. I told her everything and you couldn’t imagine the look on her face. She married a monster. She married a monster who ruined her life.”

Phillips smiled then winced. Placed his hand on his jaw and spit out blood. “Damn, that hurts. I just wanted to be untraceable for a little while, you know? At least for a few minutes. My voice sounds weird trying to talk without any teeth, doesn’t it?”

Sanderson heard a commotion and glanced behind him. Carter and Scorpion climbed up onto the roof. He turned back to Phillips. “You didn’t have to kill them. Your own daughter, for God’s sake.”

“Better me than somebody else. Somebody like you. You should be thanking me. Less blood on your hands.” Phillips took another step and stood on the very edge of the roof. “They were dead already. It was just a matter of when.” He looked down to the street below and back to Sanderson. “I hope you can do a better job than I did, Brother. I never met your wife but she sounds like a nice girl.”

Kodiak stepped off the edge and plummeted four stories to the street below.

Sanderson stood there, still pointing his gun at nothing as the two operators rushed past him and looked over the ledge to the street below. Carter said something into his radio and rushed back to Sanderson. “What happened? What did he say?”

Sanderson shook his head and slipped the Springfield back in his holster. “Nothing. He was bat-shit crazy. Went nuts and cut up his wife.” He turned to walk back to the access hatch but Carter grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey, why didn’t you take him out? That’s not going to look good.”

Sanderson looked his oldest friend in the eye and fought the urge to punch him in the face. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Trust me, there isn’t a goddamn thing about this that’s going to look good.”

Chapter 12

Hank stood next to Sara in the execution room. The sharp odor of disinfectant burned the back of his throat. He squinted at the bright lights from the ceiling and tried to shield his eyes. Sam Mazanghetti was strapped to the chair and looked terrified. Hank turned to Sara. “What’ going on?”

“Isn’t it exciting, Daddy?” She rubbed her hands together. “You’re going to die next! I can hardly wait.”

“What? I’m not going to die. They chose to save me. They just pretended to kill me.”

“Shhh!” Sara frowned and waved her hand in his face. “This is the best part.”

The door burst open and Lieutenant Hendricks stormed in wearing hospital scrubs and a white lab coat. He held a large syringe filled with green fluid and grinned at Hank. “Well, hello there, Reed. Didn’t I tell you to wait in the other room? You never have been able to follow simple orders.” He held up the needle and squirted a little of the contents across the room. “But I suppose there isn’t any harm in you watching.” Hendricks winked at Sara and took a hold of Maz’s arm.

“Hank!” Maz shouted. “Stop him, Hank. Use the needle. Stab the filthy bastard in the neck if you have to!”

Sara scowled. “Don’t listen to him, Daddy. Let the lieutenant do his duty.”

Hank turned to his daughter. It occurred to him that she never once referred to him as daddy. Even when she was a little girl. He looked at his hand and realized he was also holding a syringe. It was ridiculously huge, the size of a turkey baster, and filled with green liquid. The conductive fluid they pumped into the pods.

“Why don’t you give that to me, Daddy? You’ll hurt yourself.”

Hank looked at Sara again only it wasn’t her at all. It was the woman who woke up after the botched electrocution. She had the bullet hole in her forehead oozing dark red blood to prove it. Hank took a step back and the woman held out her hand. Cocked her head to the side and smiled. All her teeth were gone. “Don’t make me say ‘ellmee,’
Daddy
.” She tilted her head back and cackled.

“Get away from me!” Hank backed all the way up to the wall and waved the syringe in front of him as if it were a knife. “You’re not my daughter.” She shuffled for him with her arms stretched out as she had done to Private Papst, laughing hysterically.

Hank was no longer in the small execution room. Now he was back in his boiler room but it was dim and quiet. The only meager light in the room came from the monitors in the control booth. One by one the seals on the pods broke, hissing like demons and filling the room with the horrible stench of death. They were all waking now. All the retirees would soon rise and crawl from their thermoplastic tombs. They were coming for him.

*****

“Hey, Reed.” A tap on his shoulder followed by another. “Reed, wake up.”

Hank jumped and his eyes shot open. A figure loomed over his bed. “What? Who’s there?”

“You’re Hank Reed, right? It’s Corporal Dobbs. You gotta wake up, man. There’s an emergency in your room.”

Hank sat up and squinted at the soldier. “Emergency? What time is it?”

The corporal glanced at his watch. “It’s almost oh-two-hundred. Look, you need to haul ass down to your boiler room and make an emergency swap. One of your pods went bad and we need to be at full capacity. Demand for juice is through the roof with the heat wave and all and the LT has been griping about it all week.”

Hank slowly swung his legs over the edge of his bed and rubbed his sore knees. “What about my partner, Seamus Carver? Did you wake him up too?”

“He went down to the infirmary a few minutes ago. Food poisoning or something. I stopped in his room first and found him puking his guts out in the john.”

“That’s not very encouraging.” Hank reached for his work shirt. “We had the same thing for dinner.”

“Yeah, so you’ll have to do the swap yourself. Can I tell the deck sergeant you’re on your way, or what?”

“Sure, sure. Just let me get some clothes on and I’ll head on over right away.”

Satisfied his message got across, the corporal left the room and Hank finished getting dressed. He walked down the hallway, much different at night. Only a few lights stayed on and it was dark and quiet. As he reached his boiler room door, Hank started to get nervous. He’d never performed a swap by himself before and doing it in the middle of the night immediately following a nightmare wasn’t his idea of a good time. He could still hear the crazy woman’s laughter.

Hank entered the boiler room and immediately saw the flashing red light from behind the control room window. Dobbs was right. One of the pods that had only been online for a few days suddenly failed. Hank assumed it was a mechanical issue of some sort which would explain why the monitors didn’t pick it up earlier. Under the best circumstances, the system warned them as much as twenty-four hours in advance when it predicted a pod going bad. Whatever it was, maintenance would have to deal with it in the morning. All Hank could do was swap out the body and hope it lasted until morning.

Hank switched on every light in the room and felt a little better as he got to work draining the pod. His nerves calmed and his confidence grew as he went through the sequence now committed to memory. He was used to having Seamus by his side, but really it was a job that could easily be handled by one man. If anything, the company of another live person helped maintain the sanity in an otherwise insane job.

He’d learned a lot from Seamus over the last few months. Not just how to do the job, but how to put it all into perspective as well. If sticking people into test tubes could help save the rest of the world then who was he to question it? People had been dying when they hit sixty years old since long before Hank was even born. It was just a part of life. The fact their bodies were being used afterward was a big shock at first, but he’d gotten used to that as well.

With the pod empty and cleaned out, it was time to head to the warehouse for a fresh body and Hank started to get nervous again. The warehouse gave him the creeps even in the middle of the day. With no attendant on duty he’d be in there alone. Just him and thirty bodies in a morgue for the half-living. Ever since the incident with the woman waking up, he half expected every retiree to become conscious and scare the hell out of him.