Gray Night (11 page)

 The sounds of screaming and thumping got my attention.

 I sat up, dusting off shards of concrete, and saw Brandon with an old rusted pipe with a chunk of concrete on the end, bashing it into a body on the ground in front of him.

 “Brandon,” I coughed.

 He kept hammering away.

 “Brandon!” I tried more loudly, going into an even more serious coughing fit.

 He looked at me, then back at the body on the ground. He didn’t move for almost ten full seconds before dropping the pipe and walking over to me.

 “Are you all right?” He grabbed my hands and helped me to my feet.

 “I am now. Thanks,” I said.

 He nodded and helped me towards the doorway.

 “Just a minute, Brandon. I want to take a look at our friends here,” I said.

 “You didn’t get a good enough look while ago?” he asked.

 “I don’t know. Did you see enough of the inside of that building to maybe call the cops now?” I asked.

 He took his phone back out but didn’t reply.

 “Remember, I’m not here. You found the shoe, went in, found the bodies,” I said. Not that my involvement would necessarily be a problem, but I was under more than one deadline and didn’t need the red tape just then. And maybe I didn’t want my name anywhere near a police report, given my conversation with Bob and Chris earlier.

 Brandon nodded and stepped outside to make the call.

 I looked at the one he had taken care of. It was too dark to say for certain, but the body looked destroyed. What wasn’t rotted or damaged from the fight had been smashed by Brandon.

 I walked back to the light and found the other body. I hated moving it but I couldn’t see anything, so I grabbed it by its hands and dragged it into the light near the entrance.

 What the hell? It wasn’t half as rotted as I’d thought at first. Only some spots of ruined flesh on the arms but the rest was normal. I mean it wasn’t an
it
. It was a man. Fit, maybe on the too thin side, dark curly hair, and pallid. Hard to say if he was homeless or not. If so it hadn’t been for long, with his newer jeans and almost clean shirt, save for a couple of brand new 10mm holes in it. Which, I was quick to point out to myself, hadn’t had the intended effect. What in the hell was going on around here?

 I sighed, made a futile attempt at retrieving my gun, then sighed again. If there were answers here, I sure didn’t have the right questions. I exited through the doorway and walked out onto the sidewalk. It was still light out. I could see sunlight on the next intersection, where it shone down the street between the buildings.

 Brandon paced around in the middle of the street on his cell phone. I took a moment to check myself over for any damage. Bumps and bruises it seemed like. Probably wouldn’t sleep well tonight on my back, but otherwise I was okay.

 “Bit?” Brandon asked, holding his hand over his phone and looking at me.

 “What?” I asked.

 “Are you bit? You know, scratched or whatever?” he said.

 “What are you talking about?” I asked.

 “Joey,” he said, motioning with the phone. “Won’t come out tonight if you’re bitten. Says that’s how they spread the virus.”

 I grinned until I noticed I was the only one. Brandon really wanted an answer. Oh.

 “Tell Joey I’m fine and I’ll be heading on to see Roman, so he doesn’t have to worry about me turning on him in the night,” I said.

 Brandon nodded like that was both wise and profound, then relayed the information to Joey and hung up.

 “Thought you were calling the police?” I asked.

 “I did. They’re sending a unit out. Called in the guys as well. Every pair of eyes, you know.”

 “And that was after mentioning what we already did find?” I asked again.

 “Uhh yeah, well I might have left some of the particulars out,” he said.

 “Look, we need as many out there looking as we can get, but you need to be straight with them. If they’re scared and can’t, or don’t, want to handle it, you need to let them stay behind; because when things go south, you don’t want someone falling apart on you. It’s important for those that come to know what they’re walking into. Mental preparedness is underrated. You explain the situation when they get here. Straight out,” I said.

 “Yes sir,” he said. “Anything I should tell them?”

 I thought about it for a minute.

 “Yeah. Call them back with a list of supplies they should bring. Flashlights, walkie-talkies if anyone has them, otherwise keep your cell phones on hand and stay in constant communication. Maps of the area, if you can manage. If not, draw some, and mark off the buildings so no one is going over the same ground twice. Everyone gets organized in groups of three or four at the least. Call in everybody at the first sign of trouble. And lots of damned bright flashlights.”

 “You got that right,” he said, dialing his friends and getting the word out.

 “All right. Looks like we’re meeting at the diner and going from there,” said Brandon after a minute.

 “That’s good. I need to get my car,” I said.

 Brandon nodded and we headed back.

 When we got to the diner, over a dozen young men waited outside, including the three from the salvage yard earlier.

 “Okay Brandon,” I said when we got to my car. “You remember what I said to tell them? About what’s out there, to stay in large groups, and stay in contact with the others?” I asked.

 “Yes sir, Mr. Knight. And if shit goes down, put out the bat signal,” he said.

 “Hell yes you do,” I reached into my inner jacket pocket and pulled out my business. “This is the bat signal. Call immediately if you find something.”

 “Yes sir,” he said, taking the card.

 “Good luck, Brandon. You guys be careful out there tonight,” I said.

 He gave me a half grin and nodded once, before turning and jogging the rest of the way to the diner to get started. It was going to be dangerous for them out there, but I admired the hell out of a group of young men taking the initiative the way they were.

 I got in my Chevelle and headed over to see Roman Sawyer.

 The side of my neck was itching by the time I arrived. It was bloody too, but I figured it was from the shards of concrete. I mean, the man hadn’t bitten me or anything, but when I pulled in the parking lot at the shelter I took a minute to move the rear view mirror down to look. And was I relieved to see there were no bite marks or other obvious signs of me becoming the harbinger of the zombie apocalypse? Maybe, but it’s always that one time you think you don’t need to double check that gets you screwed.

 Apocalypse averted, I turned my attention back to the shelter. It was an imposing block of a building, for only being a single story. Several sections were enclosed in tall old brick walls. The building itself was brick as well, with windows guarded by sturdy bars. I noticed barred vents along the foundation when I walked to the entrance. Must have a full basement. Over to the side, in one of the sections secured by chain link instead of brick, were a couple of large white and blue vans at a loading dock.

 I went inside to the lobby. There were bland floral pictures, some chairs, several fake plants, and a reception desk complete with receptionist. As far as shelters go, it was nice.

 “Can I help you, sir?” the lady in the pantsuit behind the desk asked with a smile.

 “Yes, hello,” I said, pulling out my picture of Ruby and placing it on the desk. “Do you know this girl?”

 Like I said before. Subtle.

 “Yes, of course I know her. Ruby Jordan. She volunteers here sometimes. Her brother Thomas was by asking, and that boyfriend of hers too,” she said, pointing to a bulletin board hanging between a fake plant and a framed degree of somekind. It had another one of the posters Thomas had made.

 “Will you be wanting to see Mr. Sawyer then as well?” she asked.

 “Yes, thank you. And, if you don’t mind my asking, where is everyone?” I asked.

 “Oh, most of our guests spend their time in the main hall with the cafeteria. It is the largest room in the building after all. We don’t leave it wide open from the entrance. It’s for their safety as much as ours,” she said, picking up the phone to, I assume, call Roman Sawyer.

 “Doesn’t that place you in a dangerous position?” I asked.

 She grinned, and pointed to two sets of cameras along the ceiling, then to the mirror on the side wall.

 I walked over to the mirror to investigate. I’m not as much of a stranger to one-way mirrors as I would like to be. Therefore, I did the only thing one does when confronted with such a thing. I made a face like a five year old and tapped the glass.

 “Stop,” said a new voice behind me.

 I turned and saw a tall middle-aged man standing in one of the now open doorways, scowling like my middle school principal.

 “Mr. Sawyer this is—I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t get your name,” the lady at the desk said.

 “Adrian Knight,” I said, going over and offering my business card.

 Sawyer took it and looked at the receptionist.

 “I’m sorry, sir, he says he’s here about Ruby,” she said.

 Sawyer faced me and read the card.

 “Yes, we’re worried. She’s never taken off before,” he said, shaking his head. “And how is it you know Ruby?”

 “Friend of the family, you could say. I know Brandon and Thomas already came by, but I wanted to double-check everything myself. You understand,” I said, smiling.

 “Of course. Yes. Forgive me for that introduction. The gentleman behind the glass does not like being disturbed. Please, we’re still serving dinner and I was on my way in. Will you join me, Mr. Knight?” he asked.

 “Yes, thank you,” I said, following him back through the door and down a short hallway.  “Interesting setup you have here Mr. Sawyer.”                              

“Well, it wasn’t always this nice, that’s for sure. However, we’ve been lucky with generous donations, and with the deteriorating conditions of the neighborhoods in this area, we wanted to invest in upgrading the facility. Both to make it more desirable to be here, and also to increase various security measures. Shelters can be as, if not more, dangerous for people than being on the streets. We don’t tolerate that here and want to foster a calm environment. Someplace they want to be. Someplace they can go out and tell their friends about,” he said, opening the double doors to the cafeteria.

 It was a large, open room with a tray line at one end and dozens of fold down bench tables. There were a hundred people eating at the tables, or reading, or sleeping on cots along the wall.

 We got in line and Roman pointed out what was best, leaving me with a tray of meatloaf and a mysterious three-bean salad. Once again, I lamented the loss of Jabari’s BBQ.

 He got our drinks and we sat, eating in silence for the first few minutes.

 “So, Ruby volunteered here?” I prompted.

 He took a drink and nodded.

 “Yes she does. Maybe, I don’t know, six or seven months or so. Good kid. Always looking out for the young ones and trying to help the older women. It’s such a shame,” he said.

 “You sound like maybe you think she ran away from everyone?” I asked.

 “Many of the younger women do. Most, in fact. None of the girls who were here when Ruby first came are here now. They go back to work on the street. Some start dealing. Most of them have their whole lives revolve around that lifestyle. Their families and friends are still in it, and they miss it. They don’t know any other way. Some don’t even think they deserve any better. A terrible shame,” he said.

 “Yeah, but Ruby’s life isn’t like that. She has Brandon and Thomas,” I said.

 “She was a prostitute. Her best friend was a prostitute. Brandon is some local boy. They all have some local boy or three around. All she had was Thomas. A young boy who took all of her time and all of her money. She was a mother in all but name, and don’t even think to tell me that she did in fact love him like a mother, and no mother would ever abandon their child, because ninety percent of everyone in this room wouldn’t be here right now if that were true,” he said. “So, yes. I think she ran away. And for her sake, I hope she made it as far away as possible,” he said, taking another drink.

 I couldn’t argue with that. But, after getting to know Brandon and Thomas, there was no way she abandoned them without a word.

 “So all those girls you said ran away?” I asked.

 “Yes?”

 “How sure are you they all ran?”

 “I’m sure. Most everybody here knows everyone else. People talk.”

 “They ever talk about what goes on around here at night?”

 He stopped and put his fork down.

 “Well, of course we hear stories. There’s no doubt the streets are getting worse. It’s why I’m here. But if you want to share monster tales you’ll have to come back for our Halloween party,” he said.

 Man, my head hurt. I pinched the bridge of my nose and rubbed my temples and between my eyes. It didn’t help.

 “Are you all right, Mr. Knight?” Mr. Sawyer asked.

 “Yes. Fine, thank you. Headache is all. I still have some questions,” I said.

 “Of course you do, Mr. Knight. By all means continue,” he said.

 “Is that your degree on the wall. The one in the lobby?”

 “It is. Chemistry. But I believe you are wasting your time here.”

 “I am? Why would you say that?” I asked. My head pounded.

 “I can’t tell you anything that I haven’t already said to both Thomas and Brandon,” he said.

 “Yes. I mean, I know that. But I wanted to check—” Gremlins were mining in my head. With jackhammers. And lightning.

 “You needed to see for yourself. Of course, I understand. And so you have. But surely there are other things you are neglecting by being here. Very important things,” he admonished.

 He was right. This was a waste of time, and I’d left Claire all alone. There was nothing more I could do here. I needed to get back to Nick’s office.

 “You… may have a point. With some of that… Mr. Sawyer. I need… if you will excuse me… get back to Claire… at the office,” I managed to say. It took most of my focus to stand.

 I stumbled out into the parking lot. I don’t remember how I got there from the cafeteria, but it didn’t matter. I needed to get to Claire.