The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get (10 page)

We found the hospital in lockdown, with Black Dragon soldiers posted at all the doors and several Humvees parked outside. The building itself had sustained little damage and the grounds were immaculate, bearing no sign of the plague that had decimated the town.

As we approached the two soldiers guarding the emergency room doors, I couldn’t help but sweep the area with my eyes. The soldiers let us pass without comment. Inside, hospital staff and maintenance crews were visible everywhere—unlike the deserted scene we’d found when Warnick was leaking blood from a gunshot wound and I was towing a fractured leg behind me courtesy of repeated torture by the Red Militia.

We rode the elevator to the morgue. The last time I’d been down here, it had been with Detective Van Gundy when I identified my friend’s body. Missy had split Jim’s head with an axe after he chased us down in the forest. I didn’t like to think about who I’d been back then—a coward who’d left my ex-mistress, Missy, to die at the hands of a dragger. She’d very nearly exacted her revenge after she turned.

I thought of the freakishly tall, lumbering cop Van Gundy and how Warnick and I had later found him at Wal-Mart, turned after being bitten by his wife or son. Technically, I was still a suspect in Jim’s death, and I wondered if eventually the police would get around to arresting me. That was a million years ago, as far as I was concerned. I’d since traveled down a long, dark river of blood towards what seemed was a new seething terror.

The doors opened on the waiting room. It was still clean and pleasant, with nice furniture and artificial plants. A chirpy attendant greeted us, young and clean-shaven, wearing a fresh set of scrubs and black clogs.

“Dr. Fallow has already begun the autopsy,” he said.

Warnick moved past Holly and me. “We’d like to see him.”

“I’ll need his permission.”

When the attendant returned, he used his card key to admit us to a room labeled
CONFERENCE ROOM—PRIVATE
, which turned out to be the autopsy room. The interior was brightly lit. Four large tables stood in a single row, each with its own sink and surgical equipment. Over each table hung a microphone operated by pedals. Despite the acute presence of Death, the room smelled antiseptic and a little musty. I recognized Dr. Fallow standing at the farthest table, recording an observation.

As Warnick and I headed towards him, Holly hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” I said, touching her hand.

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Isaac?” I said, barely containing my excitement.

Doctor Isaac Fallow was the medical examiner in Tres Marias, as well as a family practice physician. He’d known me my whole life and was my friend. We’d last seen each other when the outbreak started. After we’d witnessed a vicious rampage at the hospital and before the quarantine, he’d taken off for San Francisco to find some answers. I wondered if he’d learned anything.

Isaac turned to me and smiled. “Dave! Can’t shake your hand—I’m right in the middle of this.”

“Isaac, this is Warnick. Warnick, Dr. Fallow is a good friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you,” Isaac said. “I hope you’re taking good care of my boy here.”

Warnick smiled. “He’s a handful.”

“Don’t I know it.”

I tried to see Evie as just another corpse but I couldn’t. Even in death, the authority and the confidence shone through—something her killer couldn’t take away. Then Isaac removed the top half of her skull with an oscillating saw, and the light went out. Now, she was a body on a slab. He proceeded to trace the path of the bullet, which had exited through her forehead. I had seen too much death over these last weeks and months for this to affect me much. But the sweet smell of brain tissue forced me to swallow my gorge.

Warnick didn’t seem fazed. “Less blood than I thought there’d be.”

“We froze her body first,” Isaac said. “And I’ve already removed and weighed the fluids.”

I turned to Holly and found her seated by the door, her head between her legs. I was surprised at her squeamishness, considering she’d dispatched a fair number of draggers herself.

“Dave, I can’t tell you how happy I am you survived. So you’re working for Black Dragon?”

“It’s all Warnick’s fault,” I said. “Oh yeah, that’s Holly over there.” She waved weakly from a distance, not bothering to look up.

“Holly, you’ve got a good man here.”

“I know,” she said. “I think I’ll wait outside.”

“So what have we got so far?” Warnick said.

Isaac carefully separated the folds of the brain with his thumbs and leaned in close.

“Well, this is clearly a homicide. Judging from the condition of the body, I’m guessing it happened before midnight. There are no bites and no sign of disease. Unfortunately, the soldiers who found her didn’t recover the spent bullet. But from what I can see, it was a fairly large caliber.”

“How was it done?”

“I found bruises on both knees, so I think she was forced to the ground. The shooter must have stepped back and fired from between three and four feet away.”

“So she was executed,” I said.

“Looks that way.”

We needed to get more information from Isaac, so rather than return to the command center we decided to hang out in the hospital cafeteria until he was finished. It wasn’t fully operational yet, so we helped ourselves to coffee and semi-stale donuts. It was good to see doctors, nurses and orderlies milling around. One more sign that a normal life might be in reach.

Ignoring her donut, Holly sipped hot tea and rubbed her temples.

“Feeling any better?” I said. “Want me to see if I can find some ibuprofen?”

“No, I’m good. I can’t understand why that affected me so much.”

“Blame it on the pregnancy,” I said. Then to Warnick, “I’ve been thinking about Evie. Anyone in Black Dragon could’ve killed her. Most of us have large caliber weapons.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “What about the cops?”

“How do you know that patrol didn’t do it themselves?”

“Look, we have a record of when they went out. It was early morning. When our guys found her, the body was already covered in blowflies.”

“What if it was another patrol? Or someone who wasn’t authorized to go out?”

“Dave, you keep wanting this to be about Black Dragon. You work for us now, remember?”

“I know, but—”

“Look, every patrol takes a different sector. This one happened to go down that alley and found her.”

“Sorry, it’s just that with everything we went through …”

“I get it. But I really don’t think it was our guys.”

“So we have no idea who wanted her dead.”

“No.”

Holly reached over and ran a hand over my beard. “You need a shave.” Then to Warnick, “What happens to the draggers’ bodies after they’re terminated? We haven’t seen any fire pits since we arrived.”

“Want me to show you?”

Warnick took us outside the hospital and around to the rear, where we discovered three huge, grey boxes that resembled shipping containers with chimneys.

“What the—” I said.

“Mobile incinerators,” Warnick said. “They’re all over town.”

I glanced at Holly. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Shut up.”

A forklift moved a pile of dragger bodies towards the incinerators, where soldiers in hazmat suits shoveled them one-by-one into the units. A separate crew removed the ashes from the ash pits and poured them into red hazardous waste bags. Others loaded the bags onto trucks for disposal.

“What do they do with the ashes?” I said.

Warnick continued watching the operation. He didn’t seem concerned. “They’re taken to the landfill.”

Clean and efficient. Pederman was right. Things were getting better.

We went inside and rode the elevator to the administrator’s office. Holly looked at Warnick. From her expression I could see her little woman at work.

“Warnick, you said these incinerators are everywhere, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s to stop someone from throwing an extra body or two on the pile—say, someone who was executed?”

“Nothing.”

“So whoever did this, why didn’t they try to get rid of the evidence?”

Something was nagging me about Evie’s death—Holly had nailed it. “Remember when we found Yang’s head on a pike in the forest? I still think it was Chavez who left it there.”

“What does that have to do with this?” Warnick said.

“Don’t you see? It’s the same thing. Whoever killed Evie
wanted
us to find her.”

“Why?”

“It’s a warning.”

The elevator dinged and we got off.

We’d been waiting in the hospital administrator’s office only a couple of minutes when Isaac walked in. He took a seat and leaned heavily on the desk, his pale hands folded. He looked tired, with the same weariness that infected us all.

“So, this is your office now?” I said. “What happened to Dr. Vale?”

“She left before the quarantine. After what happened with that other patient … I think it broke her. Look, I’ve finished the exam, and it’s as I suspected. Someone shot Evie Champagne execution style. It happened sometime during the night but not in the alley. Her body was dumped there later.”

“So what happens to your report?” Warnick said.

“I have to file it with the coroner’s office and also send copies to the police department. It’s officially a homicide case.”

“Isaac, did you find out anything in San Francisco?” I said. “About the outbreak, I mean.”

“I met with a number of immunologists. They’re the ones who eventually developed the blood test to detect the virus. They’re currently at work on a vaccine.”

“Any idea how it all got started?” Holly said.

“No. And the CDC was no help, which continues to puzzle me.”

“You planning to stick around?” I said.

“People still need doctors. You bet I’ll be around.”

We thanked him and left his office. In the parking lot, we climbed into our vehicle. I sat in front with Warnick.

“I want to go to Old Orchard Road.”

“Robbin-Sear?”

“We need to find out what happened.”

“I’ll agree to it,” Warnick said. “But I want to pick up a couple of extra guys. And more weapons.”

“Good idea. So, is this going to fly with Pederman?” Warnick responded by giving me the stink-eye.

Holly touched my shoulder. “What about Griffin? We could be gone a long time.”

“I can’t let her come with us,” Warnick said. “Too much liability.”

“But she can kill draggers as well as any of us,” I said.

“I know, but she’s not permitted to carry a weapon.”

“I can stay home with her,” Holly said.

Warnick shook his head. “No. I’ll assign someone to look after her. There’s a female soldier I know.”

“I want to meet her first.”

“As soon as we’re back, I’ll send her over to your trailer. You’ll like her. Trust me.”

A tall African-American woman in her late twenties and wearing a crisp uniform showed up at our door. We’d already explained to Griffin what was happening and—though she was unhappy about the situation—she seemed to accept it.

“I’m Erzen,” the woman said. “May I come in?”

I shook her hand. “Of course. Is that your first or last name?”