Dawn of the Mad (17 page)

“All right, thanks.” Roman turned and walked toward the two plainclothes officers. As he walked inside the scene, he could see the exposed body behind the Laundromat, near a dumpster overflowing with cardboard boxes.

The detectives stopped talking as he approached. “Sorry to interrupt. Is one of you Detective Seebolt?” he asked.

One of them answered, a man who appeared to be about fifty years old and had the look of a veteran detective, with hard, chiseled features and a neat crop of short gray hair, parted to one side. “You must be Johnny Roman. Good to meet you. Sorry to have you working like this on your first day. I wished I could have gotten you to ride with me, but it’s been too damn hectic already. No better way to learn, though.” This friendly introduction, coming from a detective who appeared so down-to-business, took Roman completely off guard. Seebolt extended his hand, which Roman shook. His tweed sport coat and wrinkled khakis looked like he had slept in them. Roman noticed that he carried a .357 revolver with a 6-inch barrel instead of a semi-automatic.
Old school
.

“Anything I can do to help, sir?” Roman answered.

“You can help the uniforms get statements. Start with that homeless guy over there,” Seebolt said, indicating a disheveled man sitting on the curb. “It seems like there’s a pattern developing this morning. We had another body this morning that apparently is similar. Looks like an animal bite or something, although the homeless guy claims it was no animal. He says he saw another man attacking this one. This guy is torn up pretty bad. I just talked with the lieutenant who was at the scene with you. He said the earlier victim is in pretty much the same condition.”

“Yeah, the Mexican was bitten or slashed. Is there anything else about this victim that may indicate an animal attack or an assault?” Roman asked.

“Not much,” Seebolt replied. “The guy over there states he saw a brief struggle, he tried to intervene, and I’m guessing he scared the suspect off.” Seebolt pointed again to the disheveled man sitting on the curb, a slim white male with the tattered white T-shirt of a U.S. Marines Khe Sahn 2/5 Battalion veteran, and he sported a long, gray, unkempt beard. “Anyway, I’d be interested to hear your theories. It’s not every day someone gets bitten to death out here, let alone twice in one day. I figure it would be much easier just to shoot or stab someone. Maybe the suspect had a dog or something no one saw.”

Roman nodded and walked over to the man sitting on the curb, who now had his head buried in his hands. He was visibly shaken.

“What happened to your friend?” Roman asked, as calmly as possibly. The unkempt man looked up and met Roman’s gaze with his own.

“First off, that motherfucker wasn’t my friend,” he spat.

Roman put up his hands in a defensive posture. “All right, sorry. Did you know the man?”

The homeless man looked away from Roman. “You got a cigarette?”

“Yeah, here.” Roman produced a pack of L&M’s. The man took one from the freshly opened pack, and Roman offered him a light.

“All right, man,” he stated as he took a big drag. “I knew him. We used to be friends, before he stole some shit from me.” He looked toward the body. “But that ain’t a way for a vet to die; you know what I mean, man?”

“Yeah, I hear you. What did you see?”

The man stood up and took another big drag on the cigarette. “I saw this big motherfucker, looked like he was naked. Wasn’t wearing no clothes or nothin’, but I didn’t see a pecker. The dude was, like, bald everywhere. Looked like he had blood on him, too. They had some words, then the dude just up and bit him or something on the neck. The dude took his clothes. Had these black eyes too. I started yelling at him. He ran off after that.”

“All right. What clothes did he take?”

“Dude had a black leather jacket and some busted ass jeans. That’s all I seen, man.” Roman wrote the description in his notepad. “What direction was he headed in?”

“I don’t know, man. I saw that shit going down, but it happened real fast. Next thing I know the guy is gone. Sorry.”

“That’s OK,” Roman replied. He reached into his wallet and removed a business card. “If you think of anything, you call me. Alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever, man.” He took the card and sat back down on the curb, taking another drag off of his cigarette.

Roman walked over to the body and did a cursory examination.
Sure as shit, no clothes. Who steals a homeless guy’s clothes?
He looked around for Seebolt and spotted him by his car, on his cellular phone. Roman put on a fresh pair of latex gloves he retrieved from his inside jacket pocket and, being careful not to touch the victim, traced an outline with his finger around what appeared to be a large bite mark on the throat.
This is no animal, unless a bear is on the loose in the middle of the city
, Roman thought to himself.
Damn, two cases already. Welcome to the new understaffed homicide.

“Let us know when you are finished, detective.” A short Asian female spoke from behind Roman. She was holding a rather expensive looking camera. Another female behind her carried two pelican cases in either hand.

Their windbreakers both stated “
Forensics
” vertically on both jacket sleeves Roman stood up and moved away from the body. “Don’t mind me, do your thing.”

Roman was suddenly distracted as his cellular phone started to vibrate in his pants pocket. He turned and walked away, just as the Forensic tech began to take pictures.

“Is this Detective Johnny Roman?” The voice on the other end of the cellular phone asked.

“Yeah, who is this?” Roman replied, as he lit a cigarette. Roman stepped under the yellow police tape and walked towards his car to get some privacy.

“Ok, this is Maynard Fontenot, coroner tech. We met briefly this morning,” the reply came over the cellular phone.

“Yeah, ok. What can I help you with? You looking to pick up another body before the crime scene is processed again?” Roman replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“Ok, sorry about that. This is a little serious. I’ll get to the point. The body was released to me not long after you left. I transported the deceased to the Coroner’s Office. I just started to prepare the body for autopsy for the coroner, nothing out of the ordinary, just logging property and prepping the body.” Maynard paused and sneezed hard into the phone, causing Roman to pull it away from his ear.

"Uh, ok right." Maynard resumed, "I think you should come down here. I have something you should check out; maybe it will help you in your case, ok?”

“I am not the lead detective on this one, Doc. You have the wrong guy.” Maynard came back on the phone after a brief pause. “I know, but I can’t get a hold of anybody else right now. This is serious. Your dispatch patched me through to you.”

Roman suddenly seemed invigorated with curiosity and he asked, “Do you think the wounds were caused by an animal?”

“Animal? Possibly. But this is something way above you or me. Just come down here and check it out.” Maynard seemed to be getting a little antsy.

“Just tell me on the phone.”

“I really think you need to see this. I don’t really want to explain this over an unsecured line, ok?” Roman could now detect a bit of panic in Maynard’s voice.

“Yeah, ok,” Roman replied. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.” With that, Roman ended the call. He headed towards Seebolt, who was engaged in an apparently heated conversation on his cellular phone. He stood around for a few minutes eyeing for an opening. Seeing Seebolt pause on the phone, he took his opportunity. “Detective, is it ok if I follow up a lead on my own? I want to head down to the Coroner’s Office and compare the wound marks of the first vic.”

Seebolt put up his hand, and turned to face Roman. He nodded his head in approval and resumed his conversation. Roman ran to his car and got inside. The engine roared to life and he hit the accelerator

When Dr. Keitel left the crash site, he made a simple reconnaissance of the area. His conclusion was that further testing could commence. He had the bulk of his equipment with him in the crashed shuttle, and the surrounding neighborhood was devoid of heavy traffic and curious onlookers. Upon returning to the crash site, he found the shuttle door removed forcibly from the shuttle, lying on the ground. His creation was nowhere to be found. Dr. Keitel worried that he would not be able to survive without his care, even though he had shown learning, strength, and adaptation that he had not anticipated. On the plus side, he could conduct a field study to determine how quickly his creation was able to integrate itself in its new surroundings, as well as test the survivability of his re- engineered body. To do this, however, he must first find his creation, and he must keep it supplied with the necessary regenerative solution.

Dr. Keitel entered the storage container and retrieved two syringes filled with the pink compound that was essential to keeping his creation functional away from its fixed life support equipment. He placed the syringes in his pants pocket and made some last-minute adjustments to the crude laboratory he had set up. He had located a chair out in the junkyard and quickly affixed links of chain to be used as restraints. He had set up two computers, each connected to a large control box. Snaking from the control box were the many cables and electrodes that would need to be attached and inserted into the body to effectively monitor any anatomical and physiological changes. He was satisfied with the setup of his equipment; the only thing missing was his patient.

Back inside the crashed shuttle, Dr. Keitel gingerly descended downward toward the main control console. The shuttle still had power. He began to take sensor readings and was pleased to locate a source of high heat moving slowly, not that far away from his location. With some creative engineering, he devised a way to fabricate a crude but effective tracking device. One by- product of his experiment that Dr. Keitel had noted was the intense core temperature generated by his patient. Up to this point, it had been virtually impossible to sustain dead organs for long periods of time, but science had perfected many replacement limbs and organs. The war wounded many soldiers and civilians, many critically. Evolution in the research and production of artificial limbs and organs enabled the recipients to survive, albeit forever dependent on their newfound source of life. His patient was no different. Instead of just one limb or organ, however, virtually all internal organs had to be replaced, and this was unprecedented. Replacing the majority was a risk, but for the longevity of the patient, it was worth the risk. These synthetic organs and limbs were fueled by their own power source, and as such they gave off heat. This heat had to be removed from the body, and an exhaust port was created in the lower abdomen. As long as this port remained functional, heat levels could be brought down rapidly, especially when connected to equipment designed to enhance the cooling effect. The bigger problem was the brain. It was too complex to replicate or synthesize. Keeping the brain at an optimum temperature was essential in controlling his test subjects. The other test subjects registered minimal brain activity or none at all, resulting in a painful death all over again. This one was different. In order to regenerate dead soldiers so that they could fight as they had been doing before, they needed brain function, and they needed their former knowledge and abilities. They were of little use if they could no longer fight and follow orders.

Before the research base had been attacked and overrun, Dr. Keitel’s staff had made startling discoveries about what happened once the solution interacted with dormant blood. Once the solution was administered, the blood began to change, almost taking on a parasitic quality. The solution began to combine on a cellular level with the red blood cells. Once this occurred, the new red blood cells consumed the white blood cells and platelets, behaving like a virus. These new super cells began to multiple rapidly and grow in size. Subsequent blood tests showed the new cells were resistant to traditional viruses. A curious by-product was that the blood took on a black color, and its viscosity was increased tenfold. That was where the research was terminated. Dr. Keitel salvaged what he could in fleeing from the lab; his most fortunate souvenir was his most advanced patient

The initial test subjects had been criminals and prisoners of war, and they had proven to be abject failures. The laboratory testing room was full of corpses. Although they initially showed positive results in regeneration, they were completely devoid of thought and eventually ended up in a comatose state, with most ended up dying within an hour of injection. This one, however, was different. The solution Dr. Keitel devised and administered prior to the research facility being overrun seemed to be succeeding. Why did it work on this one subject and not the others still mystified him although he had a theory. Not only did the body successfully regenerate itself, but the brain followed suit, becoming reactivated, allowing the thought and learning processes to effectively become “turned on” again. This test subject had been a successful soldier before he met his demise. Perhaps his past training and will to simply survive allowed him to persevere and learn at an accelerated rate.